


Burning Snowflakes [rewrite]

by Ending_Daley



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, and also break away from Carter's path, i'll try to keep it fresh and interesting, pretty much we follow the show with an added twist, this story flows from season four to nine and may now even incorporate the revival but we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ending_Daley/pseuds/Ending_Daley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[This is a rewritten version of a fic I wrote four years ago. There will be significant changes.] It's 1997 and Fox Mulder has found himself watching a small village in the middle of nowhere Russia burn to a crisp. Men are shouting, guns are firing, and in the midst of it all there is a little girl. Mulder saves her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. I'm giving this a go, again. I originally wrote this fic four years ago. The completed version is still up here on FF, but I wasn't entirely happy with it upon its completion. Two years ago, when I moved away for Uni, I started working on it again. This story for some odd reason means a lot to me, Danica means a lot to me (hell, I have her tattooed to the back of my arm now).
> 
> So, I've grown up a little bit and I wanted to see how this goes. For the moment it's still incomplete, but I have nine chapters somewhat ready to post. I'll leave you all with this one for now. Let me know what you think. And if you read the original back when I was writing it - I told you I was going to come back! :)

Set S4, before ‘Never Again’

.

Burning Snowflakes 

…Part 1…

He found himself captivated, entrapped, and in awe. She caught his attention after a little while. Just a speck in the world laid out before him. _She_ was merely a young girl who should not have held any significance at all, but she held his attention almost frightfully. It was the military styled pea green coat that covered her shoulders and little frame, that caught his eye, the white stockings that were starting to get mud stains and the little black shoes on her dainty feet. She looked out of place in a world that was falling down around her. 

The snowflakes were burning. Snow fell and ash arose blood soaked and heavy with the extra burden. Hysteria rolled through the hidden little town as its occupants screams strangled the air. What he could believe was once a quiet village now had all of its serenity stolen, ripped right from its glass case. 

Disaster struck and he had no idea what for, nor its cause. He didn’t even know why he was there or who had sent him. Perhaps he had been sent to walk through his own grave. Surely not. A singular note had been taped to his desk in the early hours of the previous morning. At first he was hesitant to react, even his peculiar and curious mind told him to leave it be. Besides, the last time he was there Fox Mulder didn’t have much luck with spying. But there he sat anyway, a vantage point hidden in forest foliage.

Concealed in-between mapped out lonely highways, hiking paths, hills and feral wildlife, life had found its end. 

He was in Russia. The year, 1997, and a silent war was ragging. The world in this sleepy little town was coming to a painful end. People here were being kicked out of their homes and shot at point blank range on the street. It was like World War II had hit all over again. The devastation. The execution. There had to be a logical explanation. Yet, why was it that these people were being segregated against, compared to the rest of the world? What had these people done that others hadn’t? Why were they out there being killed in the one place they should have felt safe? And why was she, the little girl, all alone in the mess of the world? 

He watched her intensely, far too scared to look away in fear of losing track of her but scared to watch in fear of witnessing her last helpless moments. From where he hid, Mulder could see most things. He watched as she trembled, as the whole village screamed. He heard the crack as gunfire was released, again. This time people fell down around her; a man only a foot away from her side.

That could have been her. 

A child.

An innocent. 

Dead. 

He exhaled a breath. It wasn’t her. 

With that motivation he pushed himself forward making a decision that he could not see himself regretting. Pushing up from the ground Mulder ran, his body catapulting down the hillside.

Mulder knew his plan was crazy. He knew it was dangerous and stupid but he hadn’t really thought over how completely deadly it would be if he was caught. He ran. Unsure as to where he was going once he hit street level. He heard the chase music in his mind keeping time with his pounding heart and panting breaths. He watched as the street got closer, everything growing larger as his feet stamped against the damp earth. Surely he was stepping onto a movie set, hidden away in the mountains for privacy reasons. A director was sure to jump out at any minute, screaming ‘ _cut!_ ’ 

The world continued to end. 

The sound of gunfire was still echoing in his ears, haunting shouts following his steps. He had lost sight of the girl once his body hit street level. She, along with the gun welding soldier had disappeared reminding the man that his time was limited. He had to find her before she was killed, before he himself was killed. 

His feet slipped against the soggy ground as mug clung to the edges of his boots. Puddles formed in the grooves of small brick roads, causing his feet to splash softly as he walked. He moved through the small streets, unsure as to where the girl went but desperate to find her. 

It was silence that followed him as his feet clipped against the brick and devastation called across the hills, it was in that noise he scolded himself on reckless stupidity. He hadn’t thought it through, although Fox Mulder acknowledged it would be dangerous he had not thought of the consequences of his being caught. 

Turning down another street his eyes scanned the scattered road in search for the little girl. She wasn’t there. A chill ran down his spine and the rain seeped through his shoes. Mulder’s heart was pounding undeniably now as he gasped for breath that only vaporised in the crisp air. He checked over his shoulder at every sound, terrified of being caught before he even had a chance to help the child who had caught his eye. 

There was no one among the living on this street, only bodies scattering the front steps of closely kept buildings and the rickety road. He tried not to pay them mind in fear of overwhelming sorrow. Mulder could not help these people. He was powerless in what was happening here, but he could help that little girl. _He could._

It wasn’t exactly the fact that her coat was green that drew the man to the little girl. He was red-green colour blind, which made it stand out. The colour in his eye wasn’t right. Her coat looked like a dark mustard yellow, a colour the man associated with what was supposed to be green. He was seeing it again, the dark mustard but only a small sliver of it and not in the form of the girl’s coat. He stepped forward slowly, moving from the middle of the street to the long row of housing apartments. It was on the steps of one where a woman lay in a crumbled, limp, lifeless heap. Blood pooled around the dead woman, seeping into her clothes but the thing that caught his eye, the item she was holding onto was clutched in a hand strewn above her head. 

Leaning down, Mulder took the knitted hat softly from her still warm hand before stepping back onto the street. It was the same colour as the little girl’s coat, he knew it and he’d just pried it from her mother’s dead hands.

It was a child’s hat, too small to fit the head of a grown adult. The soft fabric was unscathed by the silent war, a little damp from the falling snow but the mud, blood and destruction did not slither its way into the child’s innocent hat. He assessed it with course, rough fingers until the grooves of his hand found a groove on the beanie. He read the hand stitched bumps blind at first before he turned the tiny piece of clothing over in his hands. On the inside, in hand sown cursive was the name of a little girl, _the_ little girl, Mulder assumed. It was simple and sweet and he could envision it on that child perfectly:

‘ _Danica_ ’. 

A shout hit his ears causing Mulder’s heart to pound faster. He saw the slightest flash of the wrong colour an alley across the street. Mulder didn’t think as he leapt forward, his feet clapping against the brick as he moved for the alley, the flash of colour and the shouting voice. The colour stopped as the girl who was wearing it appeared in front of him, her cheeks red with the force of her running. She had found herself in a dead end. Mulder could see the panic as the girl checked over her shoulder, her sable hair flying with the movement. 

The girl turned back to him, frightened as she surveyed her surroundings and realised what her face was already displaying. She was a fox caught in a bear trap. He crouched, his mind miles ahead of his actual thoughts. ‘Danica.’ He whispered, unsure of the pronunciation as he used his hands to gesture her forward. Checking over her shoulder for a second time, the little girl lunged forward throwing herself into the strange man’s arms. 

She was so lucky, he thought, that his intentions were to save her, not cause harm.

Mulder’s arms locked around her tiny body instantly as he heard the clipping of a soldier’s boots getting nearer. Without a second thought he stood, turned, and ran. Girl in his arms, hat in his hand. 

He was running with this malnourished little child in his arms, her own clinging tightly to him like a Koala clung to a tree. He made it through the street he’d come down, still no living person in sight as he ran for the hill, for his vantage point and their escape. 

When he reached the woods, Mulder crouched again in order to place the girl on her own two feet. She was reluctant at first, her hands clasped behind his neck refusing to unlock. He encouraged her with soft words and his hands rubbing at her sides in hope of comforting the girl. She watched him with large blue eyes when she pulled back. He was startled when her blue eyes stared up at him, trusting him, believing in him in the same shade that had been sceptical for four years. This little girl had Dana Scully’s eyes. He was sure of it. 

The girl, Danica, shivered and instead of questioning her there Mulder decided it was best they get as far away from this place as possible. He had a rented car waiting on the edge of the forest that had hidden this place and knew it was the first thing he should head for. Scooping the girl up again, Mulder started to move, slower than his run but fast enough he wasn’t walking. 

Her warm tears were still sitting on his neck when the little girl again tucked her head into his shoulder as her body became heavy with exhaustion. The realisation that he didn’t even know this girl swam around Mulder’s head. Not only did he not know her, the man himself had no understanding towards what was transpiring in that sleepy little town, or her involvement. In rescuing a child he could be potentially exposing cities to something dangerously unknown. He thought about leaving her, about putting her on her feet and not turning back, perhaps leaving her outside the police station in the city, but he couldn’t do that. She was so small, so fragile, so in need of help that his mind was already picturing them both on a plane to America. He didn’t even know if she’d been on a plane before. 

Knowing the woods were clear when he had passed through before, Mulder walked at a calm pace as his hand absentmindedly rubbed at the little girl’s back - _Danica_ \- he reminded himself realising he would have to become comfortable with the name if he wanted his sudden plan to work. 

If he was smart, if he was truly very clever, Mulder believed he could walk both himself and Danica through every gate, door and security check before he stepped through the doors of Dulles International Airport and Danica took her first breath of American air. He thought, if they could make it work, that the little girl could pass for his daughter. Mulder wasn’t below flashing a picture of Scully if the need to prove the girl’s biological relation came up. His partner would kill him if she knew but there was enough genetic muster there to make the whole thing work. 

He just needed Danica to let it happen. He didn’t know anything about the little girl, he didn’t know if she would eventually realise he had taken her away from her home. If it worked, if the girl allowed it to happen, he knew there would be inside help, in Russia particularly, that could grant him the papers to make it all seem legal. 

The leaves crunched under his feet, twigs and branches, homes of insects and fury woodland animals shook with the pressure of walking feet on top of their homes and as this happened the man, Fox Mulder, let his mind run wild as he planned how to protect this cold, shivering child. She was so small, but not exactly in the petite sense, she was petite, if he knew which age to go off, but she was also malnourished with fragile limbs. He couldn’t believe how light she was as he carried her, the girl’s breath chasing across his neck with every few exhales. 

He didn’t know her, but he wanted to protect her. 

Mulder’s car wasn’t alone when he finally made it to the edge of the woods. Danica flinched, her fingers digging into the back of his neck as Russian shouting started again and the slamming of car doors assaulted her tiny and already frightened ears. 

Her world was starting to shake once again as violence and terror loomed, hauntingly above her. 

He squeezed her a little tighter as he whispered something against her ear. He knew she couldn’t understand him, but he knew it was not for her, but for him. He felt the child tremble dramatically as a solider lurked closer, watching them both with interest as Mulder moved towards his car. 

The soldier raised his gun when he noticed the man had not stopped. Mulder already didn’t understand the dialect and with another body wrapped around the left side of his own, it made it harder still to communicate with the dangerous, gun wielding man.

‘American.’ Softly, Mulder spoke leaving his pronunciation to linger as the Russian man watched him, trying to make sense of the word. ‘We’re American.’ He used his free hand to point between both himself and the hiding child. 

The Russian soldier watched them, eyes trailing up and down, his stern face unwavering as he thought. Mulder wondered for a second if the man even understood English before the Russian spoke, ‘Where are your papers?’ He asked with a thick accent. He was not a stupid man, the soldier thought as he watched them. He had known exactly what was on the other side of the woods and this would not be the first time he had caught someone trying to escape. 

Quick to lie as an aversion while he stalled, moving slow with the frightened child clinging like a baby animal, Mulder continued to talk. ‘My daughter,’ He stopped, eyes moving to the girl in his arms as he adjusted his hold on her. ‘She needed to go to the bathroom.’ Mulder was quick to add that the papers were in the vehicle as he inched closer to it, his body lagging with the girl’s tight grip and heavy weight now that his arm had tired. He had managed to get them this far Fox Mulder would not disappointingly fail now. 

He wondered for a split second if the girl’s clinging to him would give them away. She was terrified and it didn’t take much to notice ash in her hair and smearing her pale face. With his hand on the cool metal of the car Mulder almost blindly searched for the handle before he pulled the back door open and slipped the reluctant girl into the seat. Danica clung to him a little tighter, her legs locking around his waist as he lent forward. As much as Mulder wanted to comfort the girl, his back was starting to ache. Silently, he ran a hand over her back and whispered soothingly in her ear as his other hand moved to untangle her limbs from his body. 

She slid down the seat, the minute her feet touched the fabric. Mulder clicked the girl in quickly, his hand affectionately tucking her hair behind her ear before he pressed a gentle, reassuring kiss to her forehead. He didn’t know where the action came from, but didn’t stop to think about it. Bowing out of the car, Mulder shut the door and stared at his reflection. 

He wasn’t a father. He didn’t want children. He didn’t want children in fear that he would turn into his father. 

He hoped whatever he was doing, the actions, the story he was making up in his head, that it would work enough to save them. 

Mulder was mumbling, talking, creating a story as he moved for the passenger side door and dug through the paperwork sitting on the seat. Carefully and rather quickly Mulder had created the story of a girl, taken away from her father by her mother. He told of this father’s need to have his little girl back and the utter relief he felt when the child’s mother handed her over freely. He turned the crusade to find Samantha into a falsified search to find his ‘daughter’. 

‘No seat for child,’ The soldier pointed out, with a shrug of his arm towards the little girl who watched fearfully through the backseat window. Mulder pursed his lips and shrugged softly as he handed the Russian soldier his passport. ‘Mr. Mulder?’ The Russian double checked as Mulder himself nodded in confirmation. He didn’t speak as the solider looked over his passport, instead the man used the time to think over an excuse. In what case would a man, who had just collected his young child not have a car seat for her?

The story continued to formulate in his mind. Piece after piece fell into place, convincing the man himself that such situations did take place in his life. This girl was his daughter. He had to believe it. It had to work. ‘I didn’t think I would get the girl, her mother was adamant that I would never see her again. I tried my luck today, that’s all. I wasn’t prepared for this day to work in my favour.’ 

The Russian watched him, as he carefully extended his arm, handing back the passport. Contemplation ran across his face, deep in a shallow thought the next thing he did was scoff as he came to a conclusion and spoke one word first. ‘Women.’ Mulder shrugged again with a murky, sorrowful straight lipped frown. He was reaching desperation now, begging in his mind for the soldier to let them go. Mulder himself could only speak of false histories for so long before his mind short wired, he would trip up, ruin the story and with that, ruin their lives. Mulder let go of a breath he did not realise he was holding when the Russian shooed at him with the flick of his wrist. ‘Take your daughter to America. Don’t bring back.’ Mulder nodded, thankful, he had asked so patiently, so kindly to a God he had not before believed in and his asking had not been left pointless. 

Don’t bring her back. That was his every intention. He was going to take this pumpkin haired girl with her pale skin and sky blue eyes and he was going to raise her. Love her. Protect her. He was not going to fail her. 

What would there be, even after a few weeks, to bring her back to? His mind pondered for a moment. Surely she would ask one day; a woman fully grown, curious to her original origins. But there would be nothing left, not in a few weeks, nor months, definitely not years. He could imagine the foliage from the forest stretching out to the devastated town, stroking the bricks,snaking amongst them before the weeds, the bushes and the trees all found new homes. There would only be a forest to bring her back to, a forest full of ghosts where once upon a time, the snowflakes seemed to burn. It was there in that forest, he could one day tell her, that a fox saved a cub and kept her for his own. 

Mulder gave the Russian a winning grin as he uncharacteristically bowed at the man before moving towards the car and climbed in. He smiled again, from his place inside the car, gracious towards the soldier who had spared their lives unknowingly, before he pulled out onto the road and left that ruined little nowheresville town behind.

‘Danica?’ Mulder asked as he watched her small face in the rear-view mirror, ash still smearing her cheeks and coating her hair. The girl looked up at the sound of her name, a good sign that he had actually found the right child. Her eyes questioned the back of his head as her delicate little hands picked at the seam on the end of her coat. ‘Do you know any English?’ She looked up at the mirror this time her face blank as she did so. 

Mulder chuckled to himself as he shook his head and returned his eyes to the vacant road. Although he had thought about it, the Special Agent only then realised the difficulty of his plans working with a brash language barrier. He shrugged again, as the car heated up and warmth sunk back into his bones. He relaxed, for the first time in hours, allowing his fingers to drum against the steering wheel as he hummed to himself. 

His fingers drummed to an imaginary beat as the landscape around them started to clear, revealing a large highway. From then on out Mulder knew it was only a number of hours before they would hit the outskirts of Saint Petersburg. 

They would have to stop over at the next township to make an international phone call. Mulder needed help, he couldn’t sneak a girl out of the country on his own. Calling The Lone Gunmen would grant him with access to contacts in or close to the city, people with enough knowhow to help. Danica also needed a car seat, stopping would eventually be inevitable to ensure he did not arouse suspicion with the child. 

Mulder watched her as they drove, his eyes flicking to the rear-view mirror every so often. He watched as her young face absorbed the passing world as it flew by. He’d catch her finger tailing condensation down the heated glass as it mixed with the cold outside every so often as rain slowly fell against their vehicle. 

Mulder wondered what games her mind played. He was curious to know how much of her childhood had been stripped of her in that place. Was she watching the water drip down the curvature drop of the glass because she had made a race of it or was it because she was purely bored? Surely children did not need to know how to play in order to make up their own games. But either way, it fascinated him. Danica stared at the clear water so intently it was almost as though she was willing it to fall faster with her mind. Mulder sincerely wondered if she could, perhaps revealing why she was hidden so far away. 

He shook his head. The girl would have laughed had she understood his language or been capable to read his thoughts. Scully would have laughed, her mouth twitching in order to fight the urge but deep down he knew she would be in stitches while her face revealed disinterest and a roll of the eyes. 

Scully was going to kill him. The thought dawned as he stared at the vast stretch of road. She wouldn’t roll her eyes this time, instead she would strangle him, hit him over the head, smother him in his sleep. Mulder could practically hear the fury in her voice as he imagined telling her what he’d done.The colour drained from his face as his grip grew tight on the steering wheel. She was really going to kill him. 

Mulder’s mind started to race, while his heart started to pound. His own partner was going to kill him. Scully would call him mad first, completely out of his mind, but shortly after that she would kill him. The man shook his head, refusing this time to be terrified of his petite partner. He could prove to her that this was the right thing to do. Mulder, for once, could show Scully he was right. He hopped, he begged, he practically pleaded that a wall would come down at the sight of this little girl, that the warmth he knew Scully possessed would want to protect this child as much as he did. 

He knew it. 

He was sure of it. 

They could make this work. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

…Part Two…

It was necessity that drove him to pullover. 

The shopping complex Mulder managed to find just a short ways off the highway wasn’t the most desirable place to stop. Had the soldiers noticed someone was missing he could bet they would travel as far, if not a little further than this very spot in search of their missing prisoners. He had no doubt in his mind if this were to happen that Danica would be taken and he would be shot. 

Switching the engine off, Mulder steadied his thoughts. Nothing bad was going to happen, nothing bad could happen. They were going to be anonymous shoppers and that was that. 

Unbuckling the girl from her place on the backseat Mulder swung Danica up and into his arms. She shivered against him as the cold air teased her skin and tensed as the breeze brought noises of shouting children to her ears. Mulder squeezed her softly, reassuring the girl that she was safe. She watched the car grow further and further away as Mulder strode across the car park, the open world absorbing her like she inhaled air. A cool breeze trickled across her face again, a simple hello, wilderness to sheltered girl.

A family of four passed him, offering the usual unattached friendly smiles as their shouting children raced ahead and entered Danica’s line of sight. The girl watched the children intensely, her eyes devouring the scene that transpired before her. 

Happy children were an uncommon thing in her life, children were happy, that was naturally so. But not like this. These children were free, their laughter was not a mask nor a distraction. They were genuinely happy. She watched as one ran, full bolt, towards a puddle in the asphalt and jumped without second thought right into the centre of it. Water flew as the child’s shoes slid through the liquid to land on the solid ground, drenching both himself and his sister in the process. The woman, his mother, let out an angry shout causing the children – and Danica – to freeze in anticipation of trouble. Mulder squeezed the girl again as the children started laughing, their mother hiding a smirk. 

Danica sighed, her chin propped up on his shoulder as she watched the children continue to carry on. Patrons of the parking lot ignored the loud children and the overly inquisitive little girl as they went about their business. The world kept moving, Danica observed. No one was scared. 

The department store certainly wasn’t a ghost town as Mulder would have liked but it also wasn’t crazily busy either. Floor staff wandered around completing their individual tasks, avoiding customers as they went while two others stood waiting at the service desks wishing the hours away. 

The relaxed posture Danica had assumed outside disappeared as soon as the doors slid open and the noises of several children filled her ears. Gripping onto his shoulder tightly Danica buried her face in Mulder’s shirt, her little fingers pulling at the fabric, trying with all her might to make the noise stop. Mulder hushed her easily, trying to settle her anxiety as he stepped further into the store. 

Problem arose with the little girl in his arms and the desired car seat at his feet. Mulder couldn’t hold onto one while he held onto the other. Danica watched their predicament silently, her head on his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. They stared at the heavy cardboard box on the ground neither of them verbally or physically addressing the problem they weren’t yet ready to face. The girl huffed on his shoulder, accepting the inevitable fate. 

Wiggling Danica slipped down his body, her dirty shoes landing soundly on the floor. She looked up at him expectantly, eyes darting between the tall man and the big box. Gingerly Danica reached forward, fingers brushing his hand before she wrapped her whole palm around two of his larger digits. Mulder stopped, his heart caught in his throat. She looked up at him with such weary but perfectly placed trust he felt like the whole world had stopped to revel in the moment. He didn’t know what to do, a little girl at the end of his fingertips was trusting him and he suddenly doubted his ability to be what she needed.

Danica tugged on Mulder’s hand, a faint smile nipping at the corner of her mouth as the man stared at her in disbelief. Encouraging the man out of his stupor Danica tugged again, a small grunt falling from her lips with the force.She pulled him for a few steps before he let go of her hand to carry the box properly. Danica walked a few paces ahead of him, her footfalls almost unheard on the tiled floor. 

With their connection broken Danica wandered off without the slightest thought that the man behind her wouldn’t follow. Between his height and hers, as well as the heavy box in his arms and the inexperience of having a child Mulder didn’t think to keep a well trained eye on Danica. It wasn’t until he reached the service desk and was in the process of paying for the car seat that Mulder noticed the little girl was not around. 

His heart skipped a beat. Spinning in a circle Mulder hopped that he would spot her only a few steps away, but there was nowhere to be found. He called out her name, voice choked, worse-case scenario already chasing pleasant thoughts from his head. Had her captors found her? And like he had they silently removed her from him? He called out her name again, colour draining from his face as other shoppers looked at him with both sympathy and disgust. Ignoring them he continued to call out her name, hoping beyond reasonable doubt that she would quietly step out and respond. 

She didn’t mean to step away from him. The simple world she lived in was suddenly and rudely invaded by the sheer absurdity of the modern world. The little girl couldn’t think straight, the busy store was overstimulating her quiet mind. Danica had not noticed she had strayed away from her saviour until she recognised the warm protection that covered her like a blanket in his presence was no longer there. A shiver cascaded down her spine as the aisles surrounding her loomed above her tiny form. In that moment Danica did the only thing she knew. Danica hid. 

He could vaguely remember times as a child in which he had taken it upon himself to hide. Upset with his mother, or scared of his father little Fox always found someplace warm. He would curl under the bed, climb to the top of his closet, slip behind the rocking chair his mother’s balls of yarn surrounding him comfortably. As he searched for the redheaded child, Mulder envisioned the places his little self would have chosen. He stepped carefully though the aisles of children’s clothing, his steps soft as to not startle the hiding girl. The rushed panic had slipped from his body, leaving slight tremors of adrenaline in its wake. 

He reached the small collection of children’s toys located towards the back wall of the store and as with everywhere else, Danica was nowhere to be seen. It was when a deep shelf on the back wall caught his eye that hope sparked in his mind. An assortment of teddy bears sat in a pile, deep enough for a little girl to hide in. He moved slowly, creeping almost as he inched towards the studded animals. Reaching out he pulled stuffed animals off the top of the pile and stacked them elsewhere, his mind begging for the little girl to be concealed under the fluffy toys. 

A child cried out, her voice terrified and muffled by the animals she was hiding under as Mulder’s hand came into contact with her arm. Latching onto the limb Mulder lifted the girl out, her bright hair a relief to his panicked mind. He had his fingers wrapped around her arm, the rest of her body dangling as he pulled her out. Danica’s eyes were screwed shut as she kicked her legs and shrieked louder, refusing to face her captor or to be captured. ‘Danica,’ Mulder whispered his voice soft. The vermillion haired girl was mid shriek when he whispered her name, ice blue eyes opened to meet that of controlled hazel. Instantly she stopped her body relaxing in his grip. 

Immediately her body was flooded with the overwhelming sense of security, she sagged against his chest when Mulder pulled her closer, soft hiccoughs radiating from her little form. She wasn’t crying anymore but she had worked herself into such a tizzy that the effect was practically the same. Mulder squeezed her tightly, affirmation that she was safe. He lowered them to the floor, allowing for his pounding heart to regulate as the little girl clung to him, cradled in Mulder’s lap, her own heartbeat pounding erratically. 

It was there, when she brought her little hands to his face that Mulder noticed the small girl was clutching onto a teddy bear, her knuckles white from her tight grip. He tapped at the bear in her hand, not wanting to take it from her. ‘Do you like him?’ He asked, spotting the other animals she had been hiding in. Danica tilted her head, her actions reminding him of a small inquisitive puppy. Danica flinched lightly when Mulder tapped her on the nose playfully. Stunned she stared at him, eyes blinking slowly before her face cracked laughter flowing from the depths of her belly. Mulder’s smile widened at the happy sound. He would live the rest of his life trying to make her repeat it. 

He stood when her face rested on a small, gentle smile. Mulder had them moving back towards the service counters, his grip on Danica tight when they passed the children’s clothes. He stopped, feet firm against the smooth floors. Danica wiggled and he easily set her down, his eye never leaving her as she zig-zagged through the clothes. He watched as she walked across the floor, her black shoes were covered in mud, her white stockings speckled too. He could spot flecks of ash on her coat, damp blotches revealing the resting places of melting snow. She was dirty and he could bet she was cold. Spending a few extra Russian Rubles on clothes for the girl was not going out of Mulder’s way, she needed new clothes. 

Danica squawked at him, one hand holding onto the bear, the other clutching a pair of rainbow stripped stockings. He knew already that he could not deny the little girl anything and instantly he nodded his head in approval of her selected item. Mulder inspected the garment, checking the tags for sizing, he didn’t know what size she was when he thought to check on the inside of her coat. He wished, with crossed toes that all of her clothes hadn’t been hand made. He struck luck when he found a little silver tag, the number ‘ _2_ ’ faded on the fabric just above her hand stitched name. He moved about the racks and stands picking items while Danica picking things at her own height. 

They made it to the service counter, where the cashier was still holding onto the car seat for Mulder. The cashier processed Mulder’s items deftly, a gentle smile gracing her face as she asked Danica for her bear. The child was hesitant, she handed it over slowly only to receive it back a second later. She squished the bear like he had been gone a century not a second. 

The store offered a service in free installation of car seats and baby capsules, Mulder took the offer, knowing that the assistant would be a lot quicker than he would be himself. Danica stood patiently beside the back passenger door, Mulder’s leg next to her as he listened to the store clerk’s instillation instructions. Thankfully the boy knew English. They were both waist deep in the car while Danica waited outside in the open air. Having spent her life in the captivity of closely knit spaces the little girl felt bare to the world, even next to her saviour. Danica still gripped tightly to the bear Mulder had gladly paid for and the rainbow stockings she was reluctant to give up. Both items swung at her sides as she waved her arms with the cool breeze. The air played with her hair, tangling it around her head as clean snowflakes nipped at her cheeks. 

Growing impatient with her saviour and becoming somewhat overwhelmed by the open mountains and small shopping complex built around it, Danica reached up on her tip toes to tug at the hem of Mulder’s shirt. Apologising to the clerk who was mostly done Mulder pulled out of the car to tend to the quiet girl. With his attention at her fingertips, a feeling she was quickly growing accustom to, Danica held up her stockings, a hopefully look burning in her eyes as her little teeth sunk nervously into her bottom lip. 

‘Do you want to change?’ The little girl just stared at him. Their language barrier was something he was still getting used to. Danica looked down at her dirty shoes and then back up at the man, muttering something back to him in a language he didn’t understand it was Mulder’s turn to stare blankly. Rubbing a hand over his face, Mulder sighed. Perhaps this was going to be harder than he thought.

Picking Danica up, Mulder carried her back into the store. Using the bathrooms he stood the little girl on the bench, shopping bag beside her legs.He pulled out a black pinafore and white shirt, a pair of black boots to match. They were the only shoes he bought her, and although the pair she was wearing were still good, he wanted to erase that part of her life as soon as he possibly could. Mulder paused for a second nervous to undress the child that wasn’t his. Shaking off his anxiety he helped her out of her coat and dress before he stopped again. Angry bruises stared back at him fighting for the man’s shaky breath. Rage reared its head as he looked at the fragile girl in front of him. She was only a child and yet someone saw it as fit to damage her. Danica stood quietly, her hand still holding onto the bear, she was watching her saviour with big eyes, curious at his open frown.Hesitantly Mulder raised his hand to skirt over the bruises that covered her arms and stomach, he could see more on her back through the mirror. 

He felt an urge to drive back to that place, to find a soldier and inflict the same damages. He just hopped that it was at the hands of a soldier that these wounds appeared not at the hands of her mother or father. 

Quickly he covered her, white skivvy, black pinafore, her white stockings came off to reveal more bruises but were quickly followed by rainbow stockings and black boots. Mulder covered her up as quickly as he could, before he hoisted her on his hip, hugging her with both arms as tightly as he could. It was there; as he clothed her that he promised, under no circumstances would she be hurt in his protection. She only watched him with bright eyes, his English flowing straight past her, but the promise was there and he intended on keeping it. 

[…]

Danica sat in a quaint Russian diner, her little legs kicked freely under the table as she giggled at her rainbow legs. The child hummed, fries pressed to her mouth as she ate them cautiously. It was only seconds ago that Mulder was stressfully trying to encourage the malnourished girl to eat them. Her bear sat on the empty seat beside her, while her giant saviour watched from across the table. 

Mulder found that Danica seemed freer, calmer, less anxious as they moved towards the city. He was quick to find a diner, one where English would not be a problem and the girl could easily get her fill. The Gunmen had directed him to this address, promising that a man would meet him inside after they’d eaten, a man who could grant Danica a ticket out of Russia. 

Mulder couldn’t help but chuckle at the girl as he watched her eat. She was wild, he summarised, not so in an uncivilised sense but in the way that she watched the world with an open eyed wonder. She knew nothing of this open world and discovering it had the child slack jawed. There was a wonder in Mulder as well, while he watched the girl discover the world shyly, he himself was discovering a world as a father. He wasn’t really what the title claimed, but he was going to try and make it so. 

He had never seen the world through the eyes of a little girl who had experienced very little, and all of it in horror. Mulder noted that she jumped at loud noises, avoided touching people on the street and she watched the occupants of the quaint diner they were sitting in with an expectant paranoia. She was waiting, he could tell, for the other shoe to drop, for someone to scream, for gunfire. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not here. She was safe, of that he was sure. 

Her terrifying black and white world was starting to see colours, small flecks, but colours none the less. 

Mulder reached his hand across the table, hoping to place it over Danica’s small one in a form of reassuring comfort. Danica flinched at the movement of his hand, her own limbs moving to sit in her lap, complacent. She watched him with deep blue eyes, expecting a blow that would not come. Mulder smiled at the girl, his expression soft while he moved his eyes and hand down to the plate of fries that sat in the centre of the table. The girl watched him, her gaze unwavering, as the food moved from the plate, his fingers carrying the fry into her strawberry milkshake. Blue eyes grew wide as he dunked the fry into the thick drink before dropping it in his mouth. The foreign girl shrieked at him as she pulled her legs up onto the chair and leant across the table. 

It was Mulder’s turn to watch as she repeated his actions with the food and drink curiously, her hand trembling as she moved. In reality, the girl hadn’t stopped trembling since the first time he picked her up, even longer than that, he assumed. If he had to take a guess Mulder would have assumed that the girl had been shaking since the gunfire started. He knew it would take time for the shakes to dissolve from her little body. Even then Mulder recognised her trauma, it was textbook abuse from his Oxford days. Danica’s bones would always rattle with fear, with the right rearing, and possibly therapy, she would learn to be okay. There was a world beyond that burning village, Mulder just had to show her the way. 

Danica sank back into her chair, her legs slipping out from underneath her little body as she turned her attention to the large window beside them. Although she was fearful of strangers, Danica was drawn to them. She watched as busy people rushed passed the window and as children loitered with growling stomachs. Her eyes caught on a man across the street. He was indistinguishable to her little eye, his tired stance blending in with the moving people around him and yet he watched her, his foreboding brown eyes staring right back into her inquisitive blue. Danica’s head turned from the wide window as her saviour’s voice caught her ears, his English words muffled in her head. She listened to him anyway. 

The diner’s doorbell chimed as the door was pushed open, the new patron bringing in the cold air with him. He only nodded at the waitress who greeted him before he moved for the table containing the large man and his quiet little girl. Danica watched the new comer’s feet as he moved towards them, her body sinking deeper into the chair. 

‘Mr. Mulder?’ A gruff voice spoke, the body that accompanied it standing by Mulder’s side. He nodded, standing to shake the man’s hand before sitting, as his companion took the spare seat next to Danica, dumping her bear on the table. The little girl shrieked, her eyes wide and watery as she slipped under the table and climbed into Mulder’s lap, her greasy fingers digging into the back of his neck as she squeezed tight. She was shaking again. ‘I’m James Peters,’ nonchalant he ignored the child’s antics as he introduced himself with an undistinguishable accent. 

Fox Mulder had only heard a small muttering of things about James Peters. Not enough to trust the man entirely, but enough to know he was the best. It had been The Lone Gunmen who had set up this meeting, having worked with Peters before they knew he would be the closest man possible to Mulder that could help him out. 

‘This the girl?’ He asked, back hunched as he stared at the child who had her face half buried against Mulder’s chest. Mulder didn’t think it was possible for a child to mesh themselves any closer to an adult, but as Dancia sat under Peters’ scrutiny, the girl was practically trying to dig herself into his skin. ‘You stepped into dangerous ground, Mr. Mulder. That girl is property.’ The informant clicked his tongue, head shaking his dark hair as he continued to intimidate the little girl, and now the man. 

‘Do you know what was happening out there?’

‘Vaguely.’ Peters tilted his head, a small rise and fall of his shoulders accompanied the movement. He wasn’t about to let Mulder in on the secrets of his country, yet, he was seemingly willing to help with Danica. ‘She is not of here,’ he continued, his hands clasped on the table.

Mulder could only stare, his mind rolling with the possibilities behind the other man’s words. ‘She’s not human?’ He asked slowly, his beloved alien theory not something he was ready to admit as a consideration towards Danica’s existence. 

Peters shook his head, laugh caught on his tongue. ‘No, no, no.’ His head continued to shake, mirth etched into the fine corners of his expression. ‘ _German_ ,’ he stopped shaking to his head, his expression settling on serious. Mulder was puzzled, confused at how the man knew one set of peoples from the other.

‘It’s not 1940 anymore, why does it matter that she’s German?’ Mulder asked, arm instinctively holding her tighter. Peters turned to the messenger bag that hung over his chest. Pulling out a thick stack of dossiers he planted them on the table. His mouth moved, words frozen, as he flicked through the pile with his thumb. 

Pulling out a dossier Peters tossed it at the empty space in front of Mulder. ‘She _will_ be accounted for. When they don’t find her they will look for her.’ He tapped the dossier, Mulder’s eyes following the finger as he caught sight of Danica’s picture pinned to the front. Mulder’s attention was drawn as he stared at the file, _Danica Elisif Wolff,_ printed neatly on the cover just under her paper clipped picture. 

Shifting Danica on his lap, Mulder turned her away from the table and her file. She didn’t need to see it, even if she could not communicate the going’s on. He was protecting her now. 

‘Her transportation needs to be handled carefully.’ Mulder paid close attention to Peters’ words, he took in every detail, mind committing it to memory as a small part of his brain started to panic with worst-case scenarios.

Peters’ explanation was taken in as though it were breathable air, the freshest to ever expose itself to mankind. His tone was quiet in the slow moving diner, his words hushed so they were not overheard. Peters conducted himself like a paranoid man, checking over his shoulder every few sentences. He would supply them with several false I.Ds, enough to cover their travel tacks through numerous airports and a dozen flights. Peters’ logic focused on making Danica invisible; make the girl disappear in thin air and the people she belongs to won’t come looking.

Hopping about by oneself was a trick and a half, but doing so with a young child who could not speak English, made Mulder nervous. 

Looking down at Danica in his lap, his spare hand brushing her hair off her face, Mulder could see his baby sister hiding behind her eyes. It was there that he realised what he was doing, the importance of it. He had to prove to himself that he could protect a young life. That it would not be taken from him. His driving force was that he could prove to his sister, wherever she was, that it was not his fault. He did not mean for her to be taken, it was beyond his control. 


	3. Chapter 3

…Part Three…

She was quiet; that was one thing he couldn’t believe. Through planes and airports, cars and shuttle busses, she endured it all in silence.Albeit he did have to give her some leeway on small whimpers and slight shrieks. Outside of that the girl watched the world move and didn’t dare utter a word to stop it. 

He was thankful for her silence, thankful for her understanding that he did not understand her. He spoke to her as they moved. Every step of the way he whispered what they were doing, where they were going and what was going to happen next. Mulder told Danica about Washington D.C., Alexandria, his apartment and most importantly he told her about Scully. Only quietly did he tell the little girl about his partner, as though he didn’t really want her to hear his words. He didn’t know why he constantly jabbered to the little girl but it calmed his nerves and when she looked up at him with large wide eyes, expression looking almost as though she understood every one of his words he knew he was doing the right thing. 

She suffered quietly, he noticed. Nightmares stalked the edges of her dreams but Danica didn’t dare cry out. He wished that she did, so he knew when to help her but when the lights were out in hotel rooms and sleep was ebbing at his mind he didn’t hear the small child tossing and turning in her sleep. He was learning fast, Mulder had to admit, he listened for every noise, every sign of distress in the girl as she slept and by the time the final plane touched down at Dulles he was alert when it concerned her suffering. 

He carried her off the plane, the girl somewhat sitting on his bent arm as she watched the passengers slowly mull off the aircraft. Had it been four days ago Danica would most certainly have her face buried in his shoulder. Now, she was embracing the world openly, still nervous, but it was as though she recognised the shift in her worldly placement. Danica was no longer in Russia, the fear could melt away from her shoulders. 

Between Pulkovo airport, St Petersburg and Dulles International, Virginia Danica had transformed into a very different little girl. She was calmer in America and Mulder didn’t know if it was the journey they had endured together or the easier going, less abusive accent. No one here was screaming the Russian words that haunted her nightmares. Her mind was at ease, if only temporarily. 

It was dark when they finally arrived at Mulder’s apartment, shopping bags in hand. They’d travelled enough but a few more stops were needed before Mulder knew he could head back home. Food was a crucial one of those stops. 

Danica walked behind him quietly, his arms full of shopping bags as they walked the hallway of his apartment block. Her little shoes clapped against the floor as she followed the man who was struggling to fish his keys out of his pocket. ‘Do you need a hand, Mr Mulder?’ A young voice just a little further down the hall caused Danica to jump setting her nerves on edge enough that she instantly wrapped her arms around Mulder’s legs. 

‘Balance is what I need, Amy. But thank you.’ He smiled at the young girl. Amy Whittaker, Mulder mused, she was sixteen-years-old and lived with her Grandmother in the building. Everyone knew Amy, she made her weekend rounds up and down the hallways helping out for a little bit of extra cash. Mulder had to admit, she was a good kid, fed his fish a few times when both he and Scully were out of town. Amy managed to keep them all alive, which was more than he could say for himself. 

Wobbling as he tried to bend around his own ribcage in reach of his keys Mulder stumbled backwards effectively tripping over the little girl who’d surgically attached herself to his leg. ‘Damn it, Danica!’ He cursed in frustration causing the little girl to yelp and Amy to stare at him in shock. 

‘Who is this?’ With wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth Amy stepped forward, tender expression crossing her face as she stepped towards the tiny child. Danica, herself, was in the process of backing herself against a wall, her bottom lip quivering with the fright of the loud teenager. Mulder was fast to explain Danica’s particular attachment to the German language and her lack in understanding the English as he gave in with the contortion act and dropped the bags. 

Crouched down to Danica’s level, her hands resting on her knees, Amy beamed. ‘Perfect. I needed some practice anyway.’ She looked up at Mulder, smile still in place as she explained her classes for that school year. AP German was one of them. 

‘Hallo, Mausi.’ As soon as the words slipped from the teens lips Danica’s face beamed, her eyes moving up to catch that of the girl in front of her before she looked up at Mulder, astounded. The whole world started spinning for the little girl, understanding overwhelming her, that someone else could speak her language. 

‘Hallo.’ She squeaked back, still unsure but happy to have someone who understood her. Mulder gaped at the brown haired girl on the floor, it was the first time he had heard an actual word out of Danica’s mouth rather than a squeak. She spoke, _actually_ spoke.It was only a single, simple word, but it was something. 

‘Danica.’ The little girl spoke again, hesitantly, as Amy asked for her name. Her name, as she said it, came out with delicate ease. The letters stretched along her tongue, her accent tinting them with colour as they passed through her lips. Her gentle name built up to a sharp ‘eez’ before ending on a crisp ‘ka’. Mulder’s chest swelled with admiration and pride, he was already falling head over feet for the little girl. His time spent in her quiet company before they reached American soul was spent, on the girl’s behalf, wrapping herself around every part of his soul; stitching herself into his patchwork heart. It had worked, the girl was irrevocably glued into his life. He treasured her little soul. 

Amy’s hand reached out to poke Danica’s bear in the belly, a question flowing in German between them as to the name of the bear. Danica had flinched away from Amy’s touch, still unsure of the girl. With her head half turned into Mulder’s leg, the bear pulled up over her face, she answered ‘Schatz’. 

‘The bear has a name!’ Mulder laughed, genuine smile on his face as his fingers tossed the shy girl’s hair. Danica didn’t look up at him, instead she pushed herself a little further against his leg, the plush animal completely covering her face. 

Amy pulled back from the girl, a small pout tugging at her lips as she pushed herself into a stand. ‘Gran will be waiting for me,’ she spoke, nonchalant as she brushed off the little girl’s cold shoulder. Mulder nodded, apologising to Amy he positioned Danica on his hip. Hands clapped together in front of her, Amy shrugged. ‘Fox,’ she started, hopeful smile igniting her eyes. ‘I could help you brush up on your German if you’d like. I’ll cost you though.’ Her grin was full blown. Mulder couldn’t help but chuckle as she turned with a wave to the shy girl and disappeared down the hall.

Mulder let the door click shut soundly behind him as he carried Danica into the apartment, shopping bags already having been tucked inside the door. His apartment wasn’t much, a realisation he came upon as Danica observed her new surroundings from his shoulder. He was embarrassed, internal guilt knowing that he could give her more; that she deserved more. Danica wiggled on his hip, silently asking to be set down, it was with that motion that he relaxed about his small, inadequate apartment. Danica was comfortable. The home was big enough for the two of them, but small enough to leave them close together. The somewhat clingy girl was comfortable enough to leave his side knowing the distance was not too great. 

Danica followed behind him closely as he unpacked the shopping, stopping for a moment every now and again to ask the girl for help. Handing her a small item, he pointed to the cupboard it belonged in. It should not have taken as long as it did with Danica, to put away the shopping but Mulder wasn’t one to complain. The girl was his first excuse to stack his cupboards practically since he had moved out of home. 

He was in the kitchen, ladling out pumpkin soup after they had finished with the groceries. His ears were attuned in the direction of the bathroom, soft sounds of Danica splashing in the shallow water informing him that the child was alright. He had washed her hair thoroughly with baby shampoo and was content to leave the child to prune so long as she desired. Occasionally he heard Danica shout, his heartbeat would rise as his feet carried him hastily to the bathroom, the girl would only smile when he turned up in the doorway as though she was expecting him, testing that he was truly within shouting distance. 

He dressed her in mustard yellow footed pyjamas with white stars scattering the fabric after she was dried from her bath. From there they sat quietly at the small dining table, a towel draped over her new, clean clothes. He made a mental note to change the order between bath and dinner, to prevent a repeat performance of a hasty bath. 

She was not as tense in his apartment as she had been in the several hotels they perched at. With each new stop the quiet girl turned inward, her actions short, her eyes never once meeting his. She was a metaphorical doll as they passed through security gates and boarded yet another plane. She slept, still as a board, her little hands clenched by her sides, refusing to have the blankets cover her. But as they stepped off their final plane, Mulder’s feet carrying her out of the airport and into a waiting taxi. Her heavy shoulders lightened and her gaze met his again. 

Mulder was tucking Danica into his bed, Schatz the bear nestled beside her as a knock reverberated through his apartment, rattling itself through the little girl’s tiny form. Danica was shaking instantly, her little arms pushing herself up into a stand on his bed as she followed his steps, her little feet wobbling on the mattress while he moved for the door. She thought he was about to leave her in the dark when his foot stepped over the bedroom threshold but a quick shaky squeak from her throat pulled him back. 

Danica was standing on the end of his bed, her little body swaying unsteadily in her haste to get up and follow him. She whimpered when he didn’t move towards her, Schatz dangling from her right hand. Easily she held her arms out for him, her hands unclenching and clenching, Schatz fell to the mattress in her desperation. Silently she asked to be picked up, to go with him, to not be left in the dark. He was apprehensive that the person on the other side of the door might not be there for good. It was not unusual for him to receive unwanted visitors in the dead of night. He could not expose Danica to the Truth, to the dangers of his job; he would not forgive himself if she herself became a victim of the X-Files and his crusade. 

As soon as the tears built up in her ice blue eyes his mind was made; Mulder steppedforward and scooped the little girl up, settling her easily on his hip as he reached down to collect her already beloved bear in the process. He was sure she was falling asleep on his shoulder, her heavy head resting in its claimed place as he held Schatz tightly between them. 

Mulder stopped at the door, a long breath expanded his lungs, pushing out his chest before he exhaled. Bracing himself for the worst Mulder stiffed when his guest knocked again, _louder_. His eyes flicked to the watch on his wrist, 8:32pm, it was a reasonable hour but still one marked with uncertainly. He leant forward, eyes closed as he pulled the door open. 

Dana Scully’s face was a bank mask of undistinguishable shock. Wide eyes, just like that of the little girl’s stared at him, her mouth poised closed, teeth biting down on her tongue. Silently he stood, hand tightening its hold on Danica as he stared right back at the woman in front of him, guilty expression painted across his face. 

He had not expected his partner to show up at 8:32 on a Saturday night with a box of pizza in her hand and the application for “most stunned expression” on her face. Had he known, he would have warned her. She was frozen for what felt like hours before she shook her head and took a double take. 

The man before her was clad in pyjamas, his face drawn with exhaustion. The man, her partner, the person in which she knew the most about, stood in the doorway to his apartment with a sleepy eyed girl on his shoulder. A sleepy girl, her mind amended, that had not previously existed. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Scully started, her voice unsure and her face compelled. ‘You must be the other Fox Mulder that lives in this building.’ She freed a hand from the pizza box to rub at her face. The sudden surprise was making her head ache.

‘Scully.’ Mulder’s voice almost sounded like a whine as he reached for her, jostling Danica. ‘I can explain.’ She raised her infamous eyebrow as she willingly let him pull her into his apartment, intrigued as to how he would explain himself through his current situation. 

With added company Danica was suddenly wide awake and on high alert, Mulder had left her to sit on the couch, Scully standing in the archway, watching her silently. As soon as he moved away she clambered off, moving to hide beside the television set while the adults stared at each other, the tension reaching a low simmer. 

Mulder was the first to move, offering Scully a drink and chasing out of the room to get her one.‘What are you doing, Mulder?’ She snapped quickly as she cornered him in the kitchen. 

‘Getting you a drink?’ He offered, his arm extended, beer in his hand as a peace offering. ‘She needs my help,’ he sobered. Only silence greeted him. ‘I had to bring her here, Scully. She wasn’t safe. They were going to kill her. I don’t know why, I don’t know who, I just know that I acted on impulse and it was certainly not the wrong thing to do.’ 

‘You kidnapped her?!’ She heard the whine in his voice before he even spoke her name. Mulder could be irrational at times, but not so much as to kidnap a child without good reason. She just prayed it was a good reason. ‘Who is she?’ 

He shrugged, ‘I don’t know’. Scully crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Her name is Danica,’ He offered her the only thing he could. 

‘You only know her name’ He knew her birthdate too. She asked, leaving Mulder to nod before he quietly and shamefully added; 

‘She only speaks German.’ Mulder shifted his weight nervously, teetering from toe to toe like an anxious little boy, awaiting his father’s belt. Scully’s disapproval hovered over him, but he did not flinch. 

Raising a manicured hand to her temple Scully sighed. ‘What have you done?’ Ridicule was harsh in her voice, almost hissed words and an angry tone, but she was still soft with him. Gentle as though he were glass. The strain he forced upon her, in needing to tease out intricate details showed in a tick on her jaw. The muscle flinched but her eyes remained calm. ‘I just – Mulder, a two-year old,’ She stopped, exasperation making her pause. ‘How is this going to work with our job, with our lifestyle?’ Her inclusive language was not intended in sharing the girl between them. But in the shared, tiresome, stressful and dangerous lifestyle his endless crusade thrust upon them. 

Mulder shrugged and Scully couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the man-like behaviour. He was all action and no thought. ‘It has to work, Scully. I have to protect her.’ His words were honest and urgent. He had to make her understand the urgency. Danica’s life was in danger. 

‘Are you sure it’s the right thing to do here?’ Mulder nodded without hesitation. ‘You removed this girl from her home, from her family and obviously something a lot deeper than you or I properly understand. What if someone finds out that you are lying about who she is? What if she’s taken from you, Mulder?’ Diverting his eyes Mulder didn’t answer, he couldn’t answer. His throat closed tight. He could not lose another young girl. He would die before she was taken, pulled away by sinister hands. 

Silence resinated through the small apartment as Mulder stared at his kitchen floor, contemplating how long it had been since he last looked at it while Scully bore holes into his head. ‘I guess we’re not going to eat that now.’ Mulder muttered quietly, his head shifting to look at the pizza box Scully had abandoned on the counter. 

Scully stopped him as his hand wrapped around the edge, her own stealing a slice before she allowed him to pull away. He turned to his now partially stocked fridge, the door open, the cool air slipping out and kissing his toes. It was there, his back bent, his head almost in the fridge he contemplated were to slip the box, cursing his now full kitchen and lack of pizza storage. Mulder turned to his silent partner, the woman licking the remnants of pizza sauce from her fingers.‘Could you go check on her for me, please?’ He asked softly, not looking at her as he played live Tetris in the fridge. 

‘Mulder,’ his name came out on a quiet sigh. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ With her arms crossed Scully stood her ground. She didn’t want to meet the girl, not properly. She did not want to entice and promise a connection to a child whose current whereabouts was not where she belonged. She would allow Mulder to do what he thought was right but she would not follow in his path. 

Pulling his head away from the white good appliance Mulder turned large hazel eyes on his partner, his hand stuck somewhere in the abyss. He fluttered his eye lashes at her a comment that he didn’t like leaving the girl alone sliding from his lips as he did so. The girl had been quiet, she reasoned, the dark light from the window making her cave easily as she wondered on the girl’s quiet behaviour. 

Slowly she entered Mulder’s living room, her steps full of caution as she kept her eyes peeled for the pyjama clad girl. The child was nowhere to be seen. ‘Danica.’ She whispered into the room, waiting for something out of the ordinary to move. 

Hair made of dark shadows poked out from behind her partner’s black leather couch, a pale face accompanying the deep colour. She was startlingly beautiful for a little girl, Scully had to admit, even with her malnourished limbs and distant pain in her tired eyes. She was falling to pieces like a cracked porcelain doll, her beauty still intact regardless of the tiny cracks. It hit her suddenly, like whiplash from a sudden stop. She felt the need to protect the girl. Like with the garden snake from her youth, Dana Scully wanted to hold the little girl and will the life back into her. 

Lowering herself to Danica’s level, Scully dropped down to her knees as she slowly approached the hint of little girl. A whimper filtered into the air along with the sound of scuffling feet struggling on smooth wooden floors. Scully sat still, treating the girl like a frightened animal, she waited for her to calm momentarily before scooting a little closer. She found the little girl, in full view now, jammed between Mulder’s couch and the wall, the space was cramped, barely big enough for the girl and her bear. Yet, Danica remained, Schatz trapped between her chest and her knees, her little eyes blown wide with fright. 

It had been a few years since Scully utilised her college German. More than a few, but the words still stuck in the back of her head, all crammed there years ago in the need to be remembered. There wasn’t much that required college German, but now, as the words swirled around in her mind Scully was thankful towards her younger self for enduring the classes. Easily, she whispered to the child, reassuring words, promises of protection, things she knew an innocent, scared, little girl would believe. Things she knew Mulder would want her to know. 

Danica turned her eyes towards Scully, confused recognition burning in her ice blue irises. She shifted, her hands connecting with the floor almost as though she was going to climb out of her hiding space. But she didn’t. Instead the child let out a scared whimper, her tiny bottom lip fluttering with the sound. Scully continued to speak to her softly, her hand outstretched, waiting for the girl to make a move.When tears bubbled in Danica’s eyes she dropped her little head letting her forehead fall flush against the cold floor. Her body sagged with a heavy exhale, her hands held over her head, the bear still locked in her tiny grip. Scully watched for a moment, silently, patiently, waiting. When Danica didn’t move, aside from the rise and fall of her shuddering breaths, Scully reached into the girl’s hiding place, her hands taking purchase under Danica’s arms. Gently she guided the girl out, Danica limp under her hands, adding to her already barely there weight. She protested quietly, her eyes boring into Scully’s as she struggled for a second before her body sagged against the warmth and kindness of another. 

Danica sighed again, her head tucked against Scully’s chest as the woman held her tightly, one hand splaying over her hair as she continued to whisper her stuttered German promises. She nestled further against the rhythmic sounds of Scully’s heartbeat as the woman rocked her softly. 

It was Danica who pulled back first, her arms curled protectively around her bear as a tear dried on her cheek. She watched Scully from her place in the woman’s lap, her eyes wandering across her face, taking in the gentle features and caring eyes. ‘Dana,’ Scully whispered, her hand resting on her chest as she locked eyes with the small child. She saw recognition flash in Danica’s eyes, as she watched a reflection of herself swim there. 

‘Dana,’ the child parroted, her little hand coming out lay atop Scully’s. ‘Danica,’ she whispered too quietly, as though she were scared to utter the name in the quiet of the apartment. She had already introduced herself to one new person that day, a second was quite irregular. He copied Scully’s movements, putting her hand on her chest a smile ticked at the corner of her mouth but she pushed it away, her head downturned before Scully could catch the emotion. 

‘Schatz.’ Danica’s attention switched as she held the bear in front of her face, slowly encouraging Scully to take it. Accepting the stuffed animal, Scully sat him on her lap, holding his back with one hand she used the other to look over the bear, tightening the ribbon around his neck and to bend his fluffy limbs. She whispered something to Danica, the girl smiled faintly, her face close to Scully’s as she watched the woman intently study her bear. 

‘See, it was a perfectly good idea.’ Mulder’s voice greeted them from the doorway where he stood, grin on his face as he watched Scully sit on the floor, noses nearly touching with the little girl. Danica wasn’t afraid, in fact, to Mulder, she looked content in trusting Scully. 

‘What happened to her, Mulder?’ She asked, eyes moving from the bruise on the girl’s neck, slightly hidden under her pyjama collar, to meet Mulder’s in the doorway. She met his eyes for a second, translating the worry behind her words before they flicked back down to the little girl where she fussed with straightening out her hair.

Mulder shrugged in the second of eye contact Scully had given him. ‘I really don’t know too much.’ He explained coolly of the coordinates printed neatly on a sticky note, sitting in wait for him four days prior. He left in haste; sure that whatever they lead to would not be there much longer. He was right, of course. The coordinates lead him to Danica, to the village that was burning down around her, to the people being shot in the street. Had he left the next day, or even an hour later he would have wandered upon a vastly different place. Danica would have been dead. He explained the site in Russia to Scully in lurid detail, knowing she needed to see the scene in her head to understand. Knowing that she would put herself in his shoes, see what he saw and would want to wrap the young child in bubble wrap until she was properly safe and sound. 

He watched as Scully’s hands fluttered around the little girl, brushing across her shoulders, sweeping across her hair, fixing creases in her pyjamas, as he spoke. The little girl’s story unfolded, opening itself like a blooming flower to the woman who wasn’t quite ready for the truth. She tucked Danica into her embrace, holding the girl to her chest she rested her head on brown waves as she stared at Mulder’s fish tank, his story spiralling on as he spoke about the trauma he had observed in his four days with her. 

‘She’s fallen asleep.’ Mulder’s tone changed, his voice falling soft, light humour tinted his words. Scully flinched, her eyes blinking as she dragged her head to look at the man, confused for a moment before she registered what he had said. He had moved closer, his hands outstretched and his back bending to collect the child in her lap. 

Pulling away from his hands Scully mumbled, ‘I’ve got her.’Struggling to her feet she didn’t scold Mulder when his hands found purchase on her hips, his grip helping her find balance as she finally stood straight. He led her through to his bedroom where the blankets were pulled back on the right side, already awaiting Danica’s return. 

The room was bathed in a warm honey haze from the street light outside. The warm tones of Mulder’s barely used bedroom were set on fire in the light. Scully lowered the girl easily onto the mattress, finding a problem when she tried to move away. Danica had wrapped one scrawny arm around Scully’s tightly and in her heavy sleep she refused to let go. Mulder chuckled behind her, a utterance of ‘ _death grip_ ’ slipping past his teeth as he pried Danica’s bony fingers off Scully’s arm. Thanking him quietly she settled Schatz next to the girl, tucking her arm around the bear before pulling the covers up to the little girl’s chin and tucking her in tight. Pushing the bangs off her warm forehead Scully pressed a kiss to Danica’s hair whispering, ‘Gute Nacht, Liebling,’ before pulling away. The endearment for sweetheart rolled off her tongue naturally as a maternal thrum ached in her chest. 

Scully escaped the room quickly, knowing, thanks to Mulder, that the precious little girl was haunted by nightmares. Had she heard them, witnessed them first hand like her partner, Scully knew she wouldn’t leave. Scully knew, without hesitation that she would slip off her shoes and curl around the little girl. She was prepared to fight her demons for her.

She didn’t stop until she reached the front door, Mulder following behind her closely, his hands buried in his pockets as he let his head hang low. ‘For what it’s worth,’ She kept her voice a whisper, ‘I think you’re doing the right thing’. Her mind argued that he had other options; that someone needed to know this girl was now residing in America under false names and instances. But, for who they were, for what they had known and experienced she knew he was doing his best. That Danica, for the most part, was safe. 

She paused at the door for a second, her hand hovering over the handle. ‘Don’t turn her into an X-File, Mulder. She doesn’t need that life.’ She didn’t look at him, just kept her head down and disappeared out the door. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are received with great love, my darlings.

Burning Snowflakes   
…Part Four…

He didn’t like keeping Danica cramped in his small apartment. Mulder thought, with reasonable knowledge, that her previous dwellings had been just as cramped, if not more so. It was guilt that stirred in him at that thought. She deserved so much more. Having known her relatively mute self in such a small amount of time, he was already convinced that he would give her the whole world in order to ensure she was comfortable. 

She was an early riser. Danica fought sleep with all her little might but as soon as she was out, her subconscious taking over, she slept like the dead they left behind. She tossed and turned in her sleep, silent screams caught on her the tip of her tongue, strangling her. She never so much as whimpered out loud.

Danica roused at six, every morning, the sun barely had time to rise let alone to stretch across the floor. With prodding fingers against his scratchy cheeks she woke him before the sun had a chance.He didn’t mind so much, the quiet little girl was quickly becoming his own personal alarm clock. 

With Danica’s sudden addition to his life, Mulder’s routine was thrown off kilter. He never had much of one regardless, but there were small things, like his morning run that were starting to set a nervous tick in his bones. 

He sat next to her, that morning, watching children’s programming flick across the screen as the early morning light stretched across the floor. His legs itched, a sleeping dog twitching in his dreams of an open field. He couldn’t exactly take the child on a run with him and he most definitely could not leave her alone. He wanted to run. He _needed_ to run. 

Mulder watched her for a second, his eyes straying from the mindless program she was engrossed in. Reaching out he gently bushed a hand over her forehead, pushing back her sweaty bangs he checked her temperature briefly. She had been up for an hour and yet the girl was still teetering on the line of a little _too_ warm. 

He needed to get her out of his stuffy apartment. 

Hoisting her up on his hip he walked out the door. They walked into Old Town Alexandria Danica staying mostly on Mulder’s hip as his long strides equalled four of her smaller ones. Schatz bounced against his back as he walked, the little girl’s arm dangling over his shoulder.

Danica was clingy in the open air. She rested her head easily against Mulder’s shoulder, soaking in the warm comfort he provided. She was still too warm as they walked, small beads of sweat slipping across her brow and onto the crook of his neck. He blamed her warmth on the weather. 

The walk into Old Town took Mulder fifteen minutes at a leisurely pace. He stopped for Danica’s benefit, pulling her head back from his neck to make sure she was okay before he pointed to a local park, a promise on his lips that they could visit as frequently as she wished. 

They had left his apartment too early. The shop front still closed as they rounded the corner onto the main street. Mulder continued to walk, knowing the local bakery would have its doors wide open. He ordered coffee and a bear claw for himself, a cinnamon scroll on the menu for Danica. It was sticky and sweet, he didn’t think there was anything to go wrong with that option.Taking their treats he let Danica plod alongside him towards the docks. They sat and watched the river move, life already midway on the other side, while they slowly woke in Alexandria. 

He watched her take a tiny bite of her large pastry, hesitant, cautious. She pulled back, eyes wide with the exhilarating taste of sugar on her young tongue, her little nose covered in the sticky substance. Mulder chuckled as he bit into his own breakfast. She nibbled like a too shy mouse, the sticky outside melting in her fingers as she lingered before picking at it more heartily, an eager fox starving for a meal. 

Preoccupied with her sticky treat Danica was oblivious to the quickly filling streets. Noise was building, early morning chatter filling their ears, making Danica suddenly aware of their new found company. He was standing beside the park bench she was sitting on, stretching out his corked limbs the second she noticed. The cinnamon scroll was dropped immediately as she pushed herself into a stand and jumped at him in fear. The little girl climbed him like a tree, her sticky fingers pressing into his neck as two women walked past, one smiling directly at her.

‘Your daughter is beautiful,’ One woman said, stepping a little closer to observe the tiny girl and her giant. Mulder only smiled, his cheeks warming slightly. He had decided to play Danica off as his child, but no one, outside of a flight assistant or two, had addressed the little girl as such in his presence. It was a little too real to the man who had not exactly thought it over. Had it been any other situation he would have claimed that he was not ready to be a father, but Danica, her need and her safety pushed every other fear out of him. It wasn’t just necessity that he saved her, it was his own need to protect. To be the saviour she needed. 

The children’s boutique was mostly empty for that Sunday morning, the shop assistant tore her attention away from the lone customer to tend to the openly bewildered Mulder. She was quick and efficient in helping him pick out a sleek black jogging stroller, before coercing him in spending more money on clothes for his ‘adorable little girl’. Danica shied away at every point of contact the woman tried to make and yet she still made out like a bandit in treats and goodies. 

With the stroller out on the street Danica was hesitant to let Mulder strap her in. She watched his face closely, her eyes darting around his gentle face for signs of abandonment and malice. He bopped her on the nose gently, teeth showing through his large smile, trying to ease the quiet girl. Hiding her head into the soft belly of her bear, Danica giggled softly, relaxed enough to let the clips fall in place before she was securely locked in. 

Content that the girl was comfortable, happy even, Mulder moved to the back of the stroller. He felt ridiculous. Needing to push a stroller as he ran, but as they started walking, moving away from the busy street and stretching out along his usual route he realised, for the first time, that people did this every day. 

Danica shrieked as he ran, a half hour jog that had the wind greeting her face in a rushed and hasty manner. She giggled as she watched the world go by quickly, her little mind feeling as though she were invincible to the damaging hands that wanted to catch her. She kept her fingers to her mouth as he ran, giggles pushing out around them as the warm temperature on her skin slightly lowered with the fast moving air. 

[…]

His ears were ringing, his head thumping even his hands were shaking with tired exhaustion. Lack of sleep pulled at his eye lids as his hands fought the urge to pull out his hair. Danica sat on the bed in front of him with puffy red eyes as she gnawed on the fingers in her mouth. Tears streamed down her cheeks in a constant flow as wails erupted from her small lungs. She was howling, her entire body shaking with the force. He was worried that the neighbours were going to complain. Children cried, he knew that, everyone knew that – but not for _three_ hours straight. 

Mulder couldn’t understand. They had a good day. He ran for an hour and a half before stopping at a small café to purchase lunch, they ate in a park, Danica taking precautionary steps away from him as her little heart longed to race for the play equipment. He jogged them mildly back home. The day wasted around them before it was time for their nightly routine; dinner, bath and bed. She slept easily, her temperature still warm when he moved to check on her before he himself retired. 

She had been asleep for two and a half hours before the crying started, little hiccoughs at first, ones he thought he could manage before they turned into harrowing sobs and painful screams. 

Mulder stared at her, Danica’s cheeks were red her eyes almost turquoise in contrast. He didn’t know what to do to make her stop, he didn’t know what was wrong and he hated himself for it. Mulder had initially thought it was a nightmare, the girl’s cries jolting him up from the couch he was gently dozing on, but she didn’t stop, the hour slowly ticking towards 2 a.m. as she continued to cry. 

He just wished she would stop. 

Mulder was at his last thread of strength as the girl quietened for a moment to catch her breath before pipping up again. He had held her, walked with her, rubbed her back, he even sang her a song and attempted to tell a badly recalled story. Nothing was persuading the little girl to be quiet, nothing was helping her get to sleep. 

‘Danica,’ he groaned her name, his frustration breaking through. Danica stopped wailing for a second as her voice broke, stuttering with a croak before it continued normally, shocked at the sound her throat had made she looked to Mulder helplessly. For a second she held her breath, her little body swaying gently on the mattress before she exhaled, her crying continuing. Mulder groaned again, his hope breaking in half. 

In one movement, Mulder swooped her up, grabbing Schatz as he went before turning to the door and storming out of the building. He was doing the only other thing he had left to do and his partner was going to kill him for the hour. 

He didn’t need to knock when he reached the door, Danica’s cries echoed through the street before bouncing off the walls of Scully’s apartment building. She was waiting for him in the doorway when he stepped off the elevator. 

‘I didn’t know what to do.’ Mulder offered weakly, apology burning in his eyes as he caught sight of his partner, waiting with arms crossed over her pyjamas. 

She gave him a small, sympathetic smile. How could she blame him for not understanding a child crying out in the night? Scully reached for the girl, quickly taking her from Mulder’s arms as he stepped into her apartment and closed the door behind him. He watched, glued to the door as Scully carried Danica on her hip, chatting to her softly in a dialect he was still yet to grasp, in order to distract the girl from her distress. Mulder was impressed at how quickly Danica and Scully had formed an easy connection. For two people who had only met the night before, he was surprised that Danica was unafraid to place her trust in Dana Scully’s faithful hands. 

Pushing away from the door Mulder followed his partner’s lead into the kitchen. Danica was sitting on the bench, her legs dangling over the edge while she shoved the fingers of her right hand into her mouth, her left clutching tightly to the brown bear that was never out of her sight. ‘You should have taken her to the E.R., Mulder.’ Scully huffed, pushing a drawer forcefully closed as she went. 

‘I couldn’t,’ His response was dry. Scully knew that he couldn’t. Danica didn’t have an American medical record, she wasn’t even American and the bruises that encased her little body were still prominent against her pale skin. A trip to the E.R. would result in an enquiry. 

Scully fluttered about the kitchen, thinking wildly as she searched for things unknown. Every few seconds she darted back to Danica, ensuring that the girl was not about to fall off the counter. ‘You don’t have any of her medical records, do you?’ Scully asked, hopeful that there was a clue she could branch from. She wasn’t as used to dealing with the living as she was the dead. 

He replied as she passed him, stopping to pull the freezer door open in search of ice. ‘Scully, they were openly killing those people. I don’t really think there was anything of record, even if there was, I can’t get my hands on it.’

She sighed, devoid of hope before turning back to what she was doing. Scully wrapped the ice from the freezer in a tea towel before securing it with an elastic band. Gently, she wrapped her fingers around Danica’s right hand. Slowly, she tried to ease her fingers out from between her teeth in order to replace them with ice. Danica allowed for the exchange, munching down on the ice instead of her flesh only for a moment before she pulled the towel out of her mouth and replaced her fingers. 

Scully scrubbed at her face with a defeated huff, she felt out of touch as her mind remained fogged with sleep. ‘It would be helpful to know what I’m dealing with here, Mulder.’ Rubbing her eyes with the ball of her hand, Scully groaned. ‘Hell, it would helpful to you as well.’

‘Don’t you think if I could get her records that I would? I wish I had them, but I don’t, Scully, there’s nothing I can do.’ Taking Danica’s fingers from her mouth again, Scully slipped her own in against the girl’s small teeth. Running her finger over the top counting as she went. As her finger reached the first set of molars Danica bit down, hard. 

Yelping Scully pulled her hand back, ‘She bit me!’ The woman shrieked, her eyes turning to Mulder before she inspected her hand, Danica’s cries escalated from quiet whimpers to heavy sobs beside her. Teeth marks ran a ring around Scully’s right index finger, blood blossoming lightly under the skin. Danica wailed. She fought every fibre in her being to not just pick up the distraught girl and cuddle her, but she had to keep her distance. This was a mess Mulder had gotten himself into, she was not helping out, not unless she had to anyway. 

Mulder stepped closer, worry edging over his face. ‘What do you think is wrong?’ he asked quietly, watching as she restrained from rolling her eyes and huffed instead. 

‘Honestly?’ she asked, one hand rubbing Danica’s back while the other tried to trade her fingers for the makeshift ice-pack, again. ‘I think she’s teething, her two-year molars should be cutting through, considering she wouldn’t let me get that far, I would say that’s it.’

‘What do you do for a teething kid?’ He asked, expression hopeless as his voice pleaded with her. 

‘Ice,’ she pointed to the cloth on the bench, discarded once again by the little girl. ‘Sometimes Tylenol, when it’s severe enough. Most kids push through the pain. Mulder,’ Scully’s voice turned stern as she watched a hopeful look bloom in his hazel eyes. ‘I’m not giving her medication on the basis that it _might_ help.’ His eyes pleaded with her, there was no use arguing over Danica’s cries. Scully shook her head. ‘She’ll cry herself to exhaustion.’ The man was sceptical, Danica had been crying for close to four hours. Scully wanted to continue to let her cry. She was mad. 

Scully picked Danica up off the counter, holding the little girl on her hip she took a moment to soak her in. She smiled softly when the sweaty, tear soaked girl, cuddled against her, cries still wobbling from her little mouth. ‘How about we put you in the bath?’ Scully asked, chatting easily to the girl who didn’t understand her English. She was halfway to the bathroom, translating her words for the girl to understand when she stopped and turned to Mulder. ‘There’s a 24 hour pharmacy a few blocks away if you want to pick up some children’s Tylenol.’ Smiling softly, Mulder nodded, asking quickly if there was anything else he needed to collect for a First Aid Kit.

He returned half an hour later, nothing in his hands but a bottle of red wine, a peace offering for the woman who had saved his hide, yet again. He let himself into the unlocked apartment only to find Danica lying on her belly on the couch, one arm thrown over the side, clutching onto Schatz, the other holding the ice filled cloth between her teeth. Scully sat at the other end of the small couch, Danica’s feet against her thigh as the light from the television bathed them both in a blue glow. It took him a moment to realise it at first, Scully’s apartment was silent, outside of The Little Mermaid soundtrack. Danica wasn’t crying. 

Making his way around the couch, Mulder crouched beside Scully before whispering; ‘What happened here?’ Scully jumped, his voice startling her. She had heard him come in but she had not expected him to sneak up on her. Danica whimpered, Mulder and Scully cringed, waiting for the outburst but nothing came. 

‘I told you she would settle.’ She whispered at the man next to her, smug grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Looking over his partner’s shoulder he watched Danica for a moment, absorbing the way she watched the Disney film play out before her in a language she did not understand. She was wearing only a t-shirt, one too big for her, as she lay on his partner’s couch comfortably content. 

‘Do you want me to take her home?’ He asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt the silence. Scully shrugged. ‘It’s nearly four in the morning, Scully. We have to be at the office in a few hours.’ The reminder that they had a job to do buzzed in Scully’s head. For a moment her mind had been trapped in a small pocket of domestic bliss. There was a sleepy toddler curled up next to her, little toes pressing into her leg, a Disney movie she did not know how she got her hands on playing in front of them. She did not want the reminder about men in black, UFOs and Mulder’s missing sister. Suddenly, she didn’t want to be a part of the crusade if she had something else at home. Leonard Betts’ words rang in her ears, another reminder that something was wrong with her life, another reason to seek out normalcy. She didn’t want to face the truth behind the blood on her pillow, she did not want to face Mulder’s Truth. Scully wanted to sit in the dark with a cosy little girl watching princess movies all day. But, that wasn’t an option, not to her. She had to face the demons, she had to go to work, and she really _needed_ to book a check-up with her doctor. 

Silently Scully nodded, ‘You should take her home, put her to bed’. She whispered, knowing that if the girl fell asleep on the couch she would only wake in the car. ‘What are you doing to do with her tomorrow?’ She asked, watching as Mulder moved to scoop the little girl up with ease. Mulder shrugged, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. 

‘“ _Who Framed Rodger Rabbit”_ , Scully? I didn’t know you were a fan.’ Mulder teased, finally catching sight of the image on the little girl’s _very_ large shirt. Scully was quick to explain that it was her Godson’s t-shirt, something Trent had left behind after a messy visit.

‘Danica’s clothes are in the machine, I’ll bring them tomorrow.’ She finished, explaining that the girl’s clothes had been soiled with sweat. Mulder nodded easily, adjusting the girl in his arms, he got her comfortable before moving for the door. ‘You should take her to a doctor, Mulder.’ Scully commented, ‘Just a GP, to be sure she’s teething’. With one last nod, he let Scully open the front door for him before he took the tired little girl home.


	5. Chapter 5

Burning Snowflakes

…Part Five…

 

Scully didn’t expect to see him in the office the next morning. She had not expected to find herself there either. Yet, she was there and he wasn’t. Hands wrapped around a coffee mug Scully seethed, the jerk was probably sleeping in, both himself and Danica worn out from the night before. She should be sleeping in. She was the one he woke, Scully mused, as she lifted the warm mug of wakefulness to her lips. 

It wasn’t his fault. Not really. He couldn’t help that the little girl was upset; he couldn’t help the bruises that covered her body, or the trauma that wrapped around her mind. He could not help that she was a child, who was still yet to finish teething. 

Scully’s eyes were closed the minute her head hit the pillow after Mulder left. Danica stalked the edges of her sleep. She was not troublesome there, she was warm and comforting, she made Scully sink further into her bed sheets, her whole body warm with joy. That was before the dark men came, she could not see their faces in her dream, only that their clothes were black and their faces hidden. She was made to watch helplessly as they hurt the little girl, poked and prodded at her tiny being. Scully tossed and turned throughout the mornings early hours, Danica’s pain re-enacted in her mind. She had to protect that little girl; she had to make sure she was safe and loved, no longer alone and unprotected. 

Scully didn’t know how long she remained leaning with her elbows on the desk, her hands holding the coffee mug to her cheek, while her eyes fluttered and sleep threatened to take over. Familiar footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking into her foggy mind. It was the sound of lighter footfalls, faster than the familiar ones that had her instantly awake. 

Danica’s head peeked through the door, fingers still in her mouth. There was a happy smile on her face, one that expanded even more so at the pleasant surprise of finding Dana Scully in the basement office. ‘Dana!’ She squeaked, her feet galloping as she pushed herself through the door. Scully beamed as she pushed back from her partner’s desk, her arms held out ready to catch the little girl. 

‘Hallo, Liebling.’ She could not help the smile as she squeezed the little girl tightly when she finally collided into her chest. Lifting the girl easily into her lap Scully hugged her again before pulling the chair a little closer to the desk and chatting to the girl in basic, rusty, German. Danica’s responses were never much, simple ‘ja’ or ‘nein’ when she wanted to respond. Mulder was ignored. 

He watched on from his place just inside the door as his partner welcomed the foreign girl into her life smoothly like the ocean on calm, gentle days. Quietly, Danica listened as Scully moved between German and English, communicating with the child who had slumped against her chest. ‘Did you take her to a doctor?’ Scully asked, concern lacing her voice as she cradled the quiet child. She had been energetic upon entering the room, but now that she was sat in Scully’s lap, the girl fell into lethargy. 

Mulder nodded, hands slipping into the pockets of his suit pants. ‘Yeah, I ah, took her to a general practitioner. You were right, Scully, teething. She gave the poor guy a run for his money,’ Mulder shrugged, his face mournful. ‘Turns out Danica is not too impressed with people poking at her.’ Scully’s face paled, her hands fluttering to the hem of Danica’s powder blue dress. Of course the little girl was fearful, why wouldn’t she be. A lot of children were cautious of their doctors. Danica already had a history, one with black marker smudged over the important details. Distracting herself Scully smoothed out blue fabric over garish rainbow stockings that wrapped around Danica’s little legs. 

‘She was hurt, possibly tested on, tortured even. We don’t know what happened to her Mulder, there could be a very good reason as to why she would react that way.’ She was almost scared to acknowledge the truth about the young girl, Mulder was the psychologist and yet he was avoiding analysing her behaviour. They had proof of foul play, she had seen the bruises on Danica’s body and the fear in her young eyes. Danica hiccoughed against Scully’s chest, whimpering quietly as she collected comfort from the woman who had done her no harm. ‘Why is she here?’ Scully questioned, running her hands through the little girl’s soft hair. She realised, quite quickly, how much she was mothering Danica. Scully acknowledged her behaviour and the short time in which it developed and yet couldn’t help her hands from straightening Danica’s clothes, or combing through her hair. 

Mulder watched his partner quietly before he shrugged, a sheepish light flashing in his eyes. ‘I didn’t know where else to take her,’ He offered the woman sitting at his desk, nurturing the child in her lap. ‘I’m not comfortable leaving her with a stranger.’ His shoes kicked at the floor, embarrassed. He was protective and although Scully knew there was that side of him, she was shocked every time he displayed it. 

‘She’ll have to go to Kindergarten at some point, Mulder.’ Scully offered softly, gentle advice. Mulder nodded, his eyes catching hers through thick lashes, Danica oblivious between them. 

It was the white Peter Pan collar on Danica’s dress that Scully found herself fiddling with next. She had to give Mulder credit, the girl was nicely dressed, if not for the garish stockings, and yet her appearance was somewhat dishevelled. Scully smiled, chuckling to herself slightly. ‘Did you have to wrestle her into her clothes?’ Rhetorically she teased, eyes flashing when her partner’s cheeks flushed. 

Mulder shook his head. There had been a small argument about the stockings, and she won. Danica was a good girl, mostly complacent, but that morning she had discovered a wild nature and a comfortable attitude enough to take to climbing the furniture. 

Scully laughed, her head tilting to catch Danica’s face. The delicate girl looked at her with wide eyes, blue searching blue looking for silent answers in the other’s face. ‘Sie sind eine Affe,’ Scully chuckled again, bopping Danica on the nose as she accused the girl of being a monkey. Shyly, Danica shook her head, before hiding her face in Scully’s blouse. 

Scully turned a worried look to Mulder at the girl’s behaviour, she was quiet in general, but she was still capable of cracking a smile. ‘She’s just tired,’ Mulder shrugged. Regardless of how quiet she had been when he left Scully’s apartment the night before, Danica had hardly sleep. Her little eyes remained wide open after he returned home. The ordeal with the doctor that morning hadn’t helped in inspiring a cheerful, open, mood. ‘I was going to request leave from Skinner and then take her home, she needs a nap, and I need to find a nanny.’ Scully relinquished her hold on the small toddler, instantly mourning her warmth as Mulder lifted her up and into his arms.

[…]

Stepping off the elevator Danica hid behind Mulder’s legs. Her request to stand on her own, once she realised it wasn’t Scully cuddling her, had now become a bad decision. For every step Mulder took, Danica had to take four. She followed him shyly through the busy hallway, federal agents mulling around her, staring at the man and the little girl. 

Whispers were starting to flow concerning who the girl was. Danica didn’t understand their words. Anxiety ebbed at her, swirling in her mind with the foreign language, her whole body going quickly into overdrive. 

It took her a second to lose him in the river of tall people in business suits. Her vision blurred as she stopped, her hands fisted around the hem of her dress. She was trying to differentiate one voice from the next, hoping that her saviour was talking. He wasn’t. His voice nor Dana’s could be heard, just a low rumble of foreign whispers. Her heart was pounding erratically, her vision completely smudged. The walls closed in on her, as long grey legs pushed past her, half stumbling over her little body as they moved on, undeterred in their business. She panicked, tears burned at her eyes as she gasped for air.

Exhaling shakily, she screamed one easily translatable word; ‘ _PAPA!’_ Her voice cried, hot tears flowing across her cheeks. 

He was there in a second, her saviour. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his arms wrap around her as he lifted her from the ground, his warm smell enveloping her as he carried her into the quiet. Her breaths were short and fast as the world crashed back down around her. Mulder’s voice gently stroked her ears, words of encouragement the little girl did not understand and one word she did. He chanted it, the German word turning itself into a mantra. Sicher. Sicher. Sicher. Safe. Safe. Safe. He repeated it over and over, the words becoming so frequent that she inhaled one with every shuddering breath.

Slowly but surely, the spinning world slowed. Her eyes focused on the hazel eyed man who held her tight. He uttered the word one more time before pressing a gentle, loving kiss to her forehead. The only sound that filled the room after his words stopped was the light tapping of fingers against a keyboard which too stopped when the girl’s shaking subsided. 

Kimberly rose from her desk slowly, cautious not to frighten the already shaken girl. She had missed what happened in the hallway but had heard the girl’s scream and had seen the tears and shakes when Mulder brought her in enough to recognise a panic attack when it was shivering in front of her. 

She stopped, five feet away from the man sitting with the girl, huddled in his arms on the couch. ‘Agent Mulder?’ Her voice was a whisper, quiet enough that he had to strain to hear the words she spoke. Kimberly held out her hand, a small bag of jelly beans sat in her palm. She was asking if it was okay to approach, if it was okay to offer the girl the candies she kept stashed in her draw. Realising what she was asking Mulder nodded softly before whispering her name to the little girl. 

A small congregation had formed outside of the door, nosy agents trying to get a peek at the little girl who had caused rumours to spread like wildfire. Office gossip hadn’t been fuelled as much as this before, a little girl calling Spooky Mulder ‘Papa’, there was definitely enough speculation there to fuel the office for months. He knew, without actually knowing, that betting pools were already being set up. 

Danica shifted on his lap, her interest peaked at the candy. She eyed the secretary carefully, her head tucked into Mulder’s neck. Sitting next to Mulder, Kimberly inched closer to the girl, her hand held out in front of her. Danica leant forward carefully, her eyes glued to Kimberly’s as she lifted the small bag, half expecting it to be snatched away. ‘It’s for you,’ Kimberly spoke, her voice still soft as she nodded with encouragement towards the little girl. 

Mulder stopped her, politely telling his boss’ secretary that Danica could not speak English. Turning his attention to the girl in his lap, he whispered a German word, hoping she would know to repeat it. Tilting her head shyly Danica quietly muttered; ‘Danke schön’.

Skinner was the next person to speak, the door of his office flying open as he demanded angrily to know who was causing a ruckus in the hallway. Meekly pointing at Agent Mulder and the little girl Kimberly shot up from her place and hurried back over to her desk. 

Wordlessly Skinner slipped back into his office, the door left open for Mulder to follow. He did as he was silently instructed, Danica clinging to his neck as he stood. He entered the room quietly, his head hung between his shoulders, feeling like a scolded child before the scolding happened. Stopping in front of Skinner’s desk Mulder chanced a look at the rigid man. 

‘What the hell is going on here, Agent Mulder?’ His voice was rough, but not angry, Mulder noted. He wasn’t as mad as he should be after mass hysteria broke out in the hallway. 

Mulder shifted Danica on his hip, the girl’s head bobbing against his shoulder as he moved her. ‘I – ah, I’m sorry about what happened out there.’ With his head tilting towards the corridor Mulder apologised for the outbreak. ‘I didn’t realise she wasn’t behind me and she panicked.’ Skinner nodded, his eyes watching the quiet girl on his Agent’s hip, trying to figure out why she was there and where she had come from. The girl didn’t look at him while he scrutinised her, her large round eyes focused on other things in the room as she kept herself still like a frightened animal. 

Staring, Skinner asked; ‘Who is she?’ Mulder’s feet shuffled as his mind panicked. He didn’t really know what he was going to say to the man about the girl on his hip, and he certainly didn’t know how what he wanted to say, was going to be taken. 

‘My daughter,’ Mulder answered in a second flat. He had the paperwork, provided by Peters, to prove it. He just didn’t want to bring that one out on Skinner; falsified documents would not fool the Assistant Director. 

‘Daughter?’ Skinner repeated, staring open mouthed at the agent now instead of the child. Mulder nodded, a small guilty smile tugging at his lips. 

‘It was as much of a surprise to me as it is to you, Sir.’ He shrugged, Danica trying to bury herself deeper against him. Walter Skinner laughed the joke unknown to the rest of the room. ‘It’s why I came to you, actually.’ Skinner stopped laughing. ‘I know I have some vacation time. I wanted to request use of that time.’ The A.D. nodded, a sigh parting from his lips. Word had only just come down to him that Fox Mulder needed to take a week of his stored eight weeks of vacation time or else they would start not paying him for said number of weeks. To be honest he had not been looking forward to forcing the man on leave he obviously hadn’t needed to take. Fox Mulder, luckily, beat him to the bat on that one. 

He was curious though, Skinner had to admit to himself as he watched the troublesome agent stand in front of him, toddler on his hip. The girl’s features struggled to form a comparison with the man claiming to be her father. Everything about the girl was dainty, small nose, fair skin. Her hair was the only thing that struck the faintest resemblance. In all fairness Skinner would have paired her most likely to be the child of Agent Scully than that of Agent Mulder. He wouldn’t fight the agent on that one; he was too tired, too sick of the arguments already and to be perfectly honest; if he wasn’t being told the truth he didn’t want to know the _real_ truth where Mulder was concerned. 

Skinner nodded easily, again, as he stepped around the desk. ‘I can have a week’s leave arranged for you by tomorrow.’ He wasn’t looking at Mulder; instead Walter Skinner held his hand out gently towards the little girl. ‘It was nice to meet you, little miss.’ He spoke softly, Danica’s delicate hand coming out to brush her fingers against his shyly. Mulder stood still, rapt in avid fascination at Skinner’s gentle interaction towards the small child.

‘Thank you, Sir.’ He managed once Danica had pulled her limb back and buried her face into his neck.

[…]

Scully met them at the elevator, her cheeks flushed red in panic. Mulder quirked his head to the side, giving her a quizzical look before Scully exhaled a heavy breath and explained. Excitement spread faster than wildfire in the Hoover Building, within seconds of Danica’s shriek, she had heard about it through an agent from Violent Crimes. Not getting the full details from the inquisitive and invasive agent, Scully panicked, dashing for the elevator in fear that Danica had been hurt, and in that, not returned to Mulder’s protective care. 

She sighed heavily as they stepped back into the elevator, completely aware that they were being watched by several unsubtle agents. As soon as the doors to the elevator shut, leaving the three of them alone in a metal cage, Scully turned to Danica, her hand wrapping around the girl’s little foot. 

Mulder chuckled slightly, watching his partner’s protective instinct flare as she ran the fingers of her spare hand over Danica’s pink cheeks, still warm from her tears. Danica had two fingers between her lips, her little mouth sucking on whatever she was holding between them, leaving bright red to dribble across her chin. ‘What’ve you got there, liebling?’ Danica extended her hand, offering a half sucked on, slick with saliva jelly bean to Scully, little eyes wide with her offering. ‘Yum,’ Scully hummed, her eyes flicking towards Mulder’s amused expression before she turned back to the child, her two fingers on Danica’s wrist. ‘Oh, no thank you, it’s all for you.’ Mulder chuckled again, the child jostling on his hip with his glee. Scully only rolled her eyes warning him that he would be the one with sticky belongings, not her. 

Scully was half right, set on her own two feet in the security of The X-Files’ basement office, Danica wrapped her sticky pink fingers around the arm rest of Mulder’s chair, and on the right corner of his desk. Scully’s laughter at his disgust, only drew Danica towards her. The child climbed onto Scully’s lap, leaving sticky fingers on the knee of her stockings, and light pink marks on the collar of her shirt. She hardly minded as much as she thought she would, instead she focused on Danica, on the comfort the girl sought in simple attention. She could almost hear the quip rolling off Mulder’s tongue concerning her now pink shirt, when she reached for the wet wipes she had stashed in her small section of the X-Files office. The humour died on his lips, clearly beaten by the well equipped medical doctor.

Mulder was more aware then, than in any other moment that he was painfully out of touch with his new found charge. Although he and Danica had developed a rhythm in caring for each other, he knew next to nothing about raising a child and the things he would need to do so along the way. Scully, however was already miles ahead, prepared with simple things like wet wipes and basic first aid. 

He was out of his league, and yet again, Scully was there to remind him of the boxes he hadn’t ticked.


	6. Chapter 6

Burning Snowflakes   
…Part Six…

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, tapping rhythmically to the beat that drifted quietly from the car’s speakers. It was mindless, conformist dribble for the year, the same five songs on repeat as the minutes ticked into hours. 

Mulder put himself and Danica on a mid-afternoon flight from Baltimore to Boston, he had made the ten hour drive to Massachusetts in the midst of sheer delirium once or twice. Mulder however, was not prepared to do it with little Danica in the back seat. Although she seemingly longed for it, the girl did not like being cooped up for too long. She loved the rushing breeze in her ears, and the feel of her feet tapping on solid ground. 

The flight to Boston cut the drive dramatically. It took just under three hours to travel from the airport to the Wood’s Hole ferry port. Even then Danica was scratching at the doors, the sight of water and sand pulled her eyes wide. They were early for the hourly ferry, their wait for the next one tipping close to half an hour. It would not hurt to let the little girl out of the car. 

Danica flew from his arms the minute he set her down. Her feet carried her eagerly to the languidly crashing waves. She stopped just short of the sand, her Mary Janes toeing the line where sand morphed into grass. She waited for Mulder to catch up. The coastal wind rushing at her hair as she stood with her hands behind her back and her little teeth pressed into her bottom lip.

Bent at the knee he moved to slip her shoes off with the girl still standing. Silently, Danica slipped to her bottom then placed both shoed feet in his lap. Removing her shoes, and dainty socks Mulder tapped the little girl’s leg. _All done_. Another piece to their nonverbal communication. 

‘Go play,’ He urged with a smile, his hand gesturing towards the slim beach. Danica stood hesitantly. She watched the man, still crouched on the ground quizzically for a second before she turned towards the waves, her hips twisting as she switched between him and her wild freedom. 

With one final look towards her saviour Danica dashed towards to the beach, her tiny toes digging in the sand as she ran towards the water. She stopped halfway. Not more than a few metres away from him. Her toes wiggled in the moist sand, collecting the grains against her skin, scratching gently. Delicately she held her hand out to him, her wind swept face smiling shyly as she beckoned him with her little fingers. 

Quickly he rolled up the hem of his jeans, raising them hallway up his calf before he approached her steadily. Not once did he move too fast for the girl to register his movements. There were times of dire need, like in the FBI hallway, when he rushed to her. On other occasions he approached her like she was a flighty animal, waiting to pounce or runaway. Although he had been the one to take her, Mulder wanted Danica to know that everything was on her terms, as little as she may be. 

He took her hand on the beach, letting her wrap small fingers around two of his larger ones as she led him cautiously towards the water’s edge. She shrieked when she stepped too close, the tide sliding in to caress her toes unexpectedly.She danced with the current, watching it wade in and out as she chased it back and forth. 

Danica squeaked at the feel of cold water rushing over her skin. She didn’t move, she held tight to Mulder’s hand letting the ocean glide in and out, introducing itself to her gently albeit harshly with the sheer chill of its waters.Mulder watched her, as he always did, something he was seeing as almost soothing as the world past them by. 

He saw her as a fragile girl, breaking, cracks appearing in in her porcelain flesh, ready to disappear from this world without a sound, in that he saw a chance. He could rescue her, he could save her. He could not stop his sister from slipping out of his grasp but he could save Danica. He could prove to himself and watching eyes that it was not his fault, that Samantha’s disappearance could not be place on his shoulders. He would save Danica, repair her, he would love her, he would raise her and she would not end up like his sister. Instead she would start to mend that void

As they stood on the beach, small waves lapping at their toes, Danica watched the wide world with open eyes. He realised that he was already helping. That the cracks were repairing themselves slowly, sutures closing up, not only on the little girl but on his own fractured past. His recovery would be slower, but the steps were happening, he was going to see his mother.

He almost had to drag her away when the ferry approached, Danica surrendered herself, allowing her saviour to carry her as he pointed to the approaching boat. She giggled, her eyes darting between his face and the ferry as Mulder spoke to her softly, his words lost but not unappreciated.

She insisted, in her silent way, hands pointing and pulling, once they had climbed back into the car and boarded the transport that they should watch from outside the car on the observation deck. Mulder took her gladly, walking up and down the boat, wind lapping at their hair harsher now than what it had been on the beach. Danica giggled, her hands pushing away at her hair clumsily as he held her around the waist, watching the water glide underneath him as Martha’s Vineyard drew closer. 

There was a set of children on board, a boy and girl accompanying their parents chatting about some trip they had taken and how excited they were to be returning to the vineyard. Mulder only listened partially, their chatter reminding him of his childhood, he and Samantha blabbering on the exact same ferry as they returned for the summer, eager for the long days and warm nights ahead of them. 

Danica watched the children curiously, her hands giving up on saving her hair she rested her head on his shoulder as she watched, eyes drooping with exhaustion. She was dead to the world by the time he pulled into his mother’s driveway. 

Tires crunched across gravel as he slowly rolled up the driveway, eyes watching in the rear view mirror for movement in the sleeping child. 

His mother was on the front porch, arms crossed over her chest as she stood at the top of the small set of stairs, awaiting him.He had called her earlier that morning, checking she was home and available for a few days before he packed Danica in the car and set her up for disappointment. 

He left Danica sleeping in the backseat, his feet replaced the tires crunching on the gravel as he got out and approached his mother. ‘Oh, Fox. It’s been too long.’ Teena met him halfway with a warm smile, her arms open wide. Mulder stopped in his tracks, suspicious and all around confused by his mother’s behaviour. Teena Mulder was not a woman full of warm smiles and hugs, she had been once, a very long time ago, but those days were mostly flickers in Mulder’s memory. She pulled him into a hug, ignoring her son’s stiff back bone as she peeked over his shoulder, intrigued by whomever it was that he was bringing with him. ‘Fox,’ She started again, his ears ringing at the sound of his name coming so frequently from her lips. ‘There is a little girl sleeping in the backseat of your car.’ 

‘Uh, yeah.’ Mulder scratched at his head, he had practiced what to tell her, a harrowing story or some other, something believable enough that she would take it. It had all left him. Every sentence bar one; ‘That’s, uh, actually who I wanted you to meet. She’s my daughter’. 

‘What?’ The woman pulled back, staring at her son, her mouth agape in horror. 

‘Her name is Danica.’ He offered quietly, head lowered, feeling very much like the little boy who would be scolded by his mother. ‘I, ah, I would have told you sooner, Mom, I swear. But, it’s kind of new to me too.’ Teena’s face withdrew from horror to confusion, and then suddenly, understanding. Someone had kept his baby from him, as people had done to her. The difference being she had signed her daughter over, her son had no choice in knowing that there was a child on the planet with half his blood. 

Teena did as she did with everything, avoided the major discussions and Mulder, for once, was thankful. ‘Well, can I say ‘hello’,’ Her question was meek. She acknowledged that Fox was now in charge of their relationship. He could very well introduce her to her granddaughter and then take the child away. 

Mulder nodded easily, tossing his head over his shoulder to check the back window of the car. Danica was still asleep. He didn’t want to wake her but knew her sleeping at this time of the day meant she would not sleep later in the evening. 

‘I have to prepare you of a few things first, before I wake her up.’ Mulder took a step back towards the car as he awaited his mother’s cautionary nod. ‘Her grasp of linguistic understanding is not up to par with what it should be. Don’t push her to speak to you or to understand what you’re saying. She’s a smart kid, she’ll communicate what she wants. No loud noises, or sudden movements either. She doesn’t like people coming up behind her, you need to be in front of her before you touch her or speak. She needs to see you.’ 

‘My god, Fox, you make it sound as though the girl has been traumatised.’ He didn’t answer, only turned towards the car and pulled the door open. He knew she would wake if she heard him moving about, Danica was surprisingly alert when it came to her surroundings. He busied himself with sorting out her backpack, leaving Schatz in her lap as he zipped the bag and hooked it over his shoulder. She was rousing by the time he moved for the buckles on her seat, little hands over her eyes as she mewled with a soft yawn. 

Mulder hummed to her, noncommittal sounds that vibrated in his ears like a slow Elvis Presley song. He moved around her gently, pulling her arms out of the harness as he transferred them to his neck and hoisted her out of the car. Danica kept her eyes closed and remained reverently calm. He was surprised a tantrum didn’t follow her drowsy eyes, a scream did not pierce her throat nor did tears wet her cheeks. He half expected an explosion when she realised their day of travelling led them elsewhere than home. 

Teena kept her distance as she watched her son, hand under her chin, accommodating to the child. She had known her boy to be the nurturing kind. Once, long ago, when Samantha was only a small baby. He had doted on his sister throughout her life, picking on her when necessary, but caring beyond belief. She had tuned him out when her daughter was taken, lost sight of her son completely as depression evoked disinterest. It was easy to keep that up over the years. As she had changed in Samantha’s absence, she almost expected Fox to do the same. He had not. Buried the tender care maybe, but it had not disappeared with his sister. It remained to resurface for this girl. 

He was facing her before she was ready, Danica’s eyes open as she took in the space around her, inhaled the sweet summertime air. The Vineyard always smelt the same to Mulder, as though summer never really stopped, it’s memories always entrapped on the island just for he and Samantha to share. 

She stepped forward, cautious, careful, as her son watched her closely. Danica was turned into his chest, but she was watching her surroundings just past his face. There was no need to turn her, as she sat on his hip, to see his mother, she would see her in turn. They waited for Danica’s eyes to fall on the woman, the child jumping slightly at the sight of the woman she had not expected to find standing there. Teena smiled. Danica shied away in Mulder’s shoulder, her head under his neck as she peered at the woman shyly. 

‘Hello, little one,’ Teena held her hand out, reaching to touch Danica’s dainty little fingers. The older woman brushed her thumb over the girl’s hand where it rested over her father’s heartbeat, Schatz hanging from her fingertips. She didn’t flinch or pull away, but she wasn’t relaxed as Teena touched her. ‘Oh Fox,’ she sighed eyes glossing over as she watched the child, soaked in her presence. 

Danica shivered in the cold air, dropping her head to Mulder’s shoulder she shook. Teena hurried them inside at the sight of her granddaughters shivering. The house was warm despite the chill outside. The TV hummed from the living room while the rest of the house sat silently, awaiting the children that used to play within it’s walls. Mulder swore, if he closed his eyes and concentrated he would see Samantha run past him, or peep down from the stairs. He could hear her in that house, snippets of her laughter, and her calling out his name. Something inside of him ached, as it always did, the disappointment in himself that he still hadn’t found her. 

Teena led them to the kitchen, where she started pulling things out of the cupboards. ‘I am so unprepared for grandchildren,’ She huffed, muttering to herself as she set out cutting vegetables and finding her best casserole dish. ‘Really, Fox, you should have warned me, I could have called for something. I don’t have anything here appropriate for a child, dolls or clothes, sweets even. Honestly, son.’ Mulder gave his mother a lopsided smile, sheepish and completely happy. He didn’t know what he expected from his trip out to his mother, possibly to be sent away. A small part of him hoped that she would react in this way, the cheerful, homely mom that he knew years ago. He didn’t dare let himself dream of this possibility. 

‘It’s all right, I have things in her bag.’ He sat Danica in a bench stool at the kitchen island his mother was fluttering around. He pulled out a colouring book, already used, and a pack of crayons. Danica was busy in seconds, occasionally looking up from her pages to watch Teena, or listen to the woman’s voice when she tapped the pages of her colouring books. 

‘Oh Fox,’ His mother sighed, again. It was all she managed to get out every couple of minutes as she looked at her son or new found granddaughter with dreamy eyes. ‘I can’t believe this. She’s really yours?’ 

‘She really is,’ He lied. 

Danica was watching them both in that moment, blue crayon in her hand, still pressed to the page. ‘She’s beautiful, Fox. She looks like you, or maybe it’s the personality. You used to be a shy thing. You would hide everywhere, speak to no one unless it was on your terms. I can see that in her.’ Danica smiled softly as Teena offered her a small plate of sliced carrots. 

‘I was shy?’ Mulder asked, not convinced. 

Teena hummed, nodding her head. She broke off into a story, telling him about a time they had gone to the park and had decided there were too many kids there, so he sat on the bench, his mothers arm wrapped around him and watched the other kids instead of playing. 

‘I don’t remember that,’ he laughed, amused. 

‘You wouldn’t, you were only about Danica’s age. It all changed once Samantha came along, and was big enough to walk around on her own. After that you got brave, just so you could follow her around.’ It was the first time, since he could remember, that his mother did not hesitate on Samantha’s name, nor did her tone shift in emotion. She carried on, reminiscing about her only son and his youth.

Danica, as the adults spoke around her, grasped a small handful of the carrots she was offered and shimmied herself off the bar stool. Noticing she was trying to climb down, Mulder helped the girl onto the floor, only breaking concentration from his mother for a second as he handed Schatz to the girl. 

She only wandered from the kitchen to the hallway and back again, testing the boundary each time as her comfort zone expanded. When his mother stopped talking to focus on the meal she was preparing, Mulder excused himself, itching to check on Scully and the case he had assigned her in Philadelphia. He had called before they boarded the ferry but Scully left it unanswered and was yet to return his call. 

‘ _Hello?_ ’ She answered on the second ring, her voice drifting down the line. 

‘Scully.’ 

‘ _Mulder. What’s wrong?_ ’ He could almost hear the worry in her voice, and the slightest hint of irritation. She could sort this case out on her own, and yet he had an incessant need to check in with her and make sure she was doing as he asked. 

‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m just at my mom’s. She’s taking to Danica really well, honestly, this is better than I expected.’

‘ _How did you know where I was?’_ No nonsense, he smiled. He knew she stuck around this long for a reason, mostly because she could deal with his crap. Maybe he was laying it on a little too heavy at the moment. With Danica around he wasn’t too sure how he was treating Scully. 

He was guilty in his response, ‘I-I checked where we always stay in Philadelphia. I knew you wouldn’t abandon me. How’s the case going?’ Panic rose in his gut, she had handed it over to the Philadelphia bureau. He trusted Scully to run around and keep herself out of trouble on the cases he had allocated for her and she handed it over. What was she doing. 

‘ _Mulder, there is no X-File. Your contact is connected to the Vorofski Mir, extortion, credit fraud, cons, he is nothing but a swindler.’_ He certainly wouldn’t be so easy to discredit and X-File. Mulder almost wanted to yell, he was half way to running out the door and heading to Philadelphia himself. Scully was angry at his dismissing of her dismissal, she did as he asked, she ran the background check, nothing spooky, and now she wanted to move along. 

He wanted to get out there himself. Mulder wasn’t too sure how comfortable Danica or his mother would feel alone in each other’s company, but his gears were in overcharge he had to get out there, to stop Scully from making a mistake. But, it wasn’t a mistake, she was right, he just couldn’t let it go. 

‘ _Look Mulder, I have to go.’_

He sneered into the phone, impatient, annoyed. ‘What, have you got a date, or something?’ Her answer was silence, freezing him to the core. ‘Y - you’re kidding.’ 

Her voice was stern, final, ‘ _I have everything under control. Enjoy Danica. I will talk to you later.’_ She hung up before he could get the final word, leaving Mulder to stare at his phone half confused. What the hell was happening between them.

Danica had followed him around the corner, and into the living room. Her little eyes scanned the space, teeth crunching the carrots in her hand as she inspected the trinkets Teena Mulder left lying about. His conversation with Scully left Mulder frustrated and annoyed, his teeth were grinding together as his jaw tensed. Danica sparred a look in his direction, the same worried wide eyes she held for everything else grounded him somewhat. She would know that he was tense, and for the little girl it was an energy they did not need in her space. 

Teena served them both with a hearty home cooked meal, eaten at the dinner table. A meal from a side of his mother Mulder thought he had lost, almost cleansed his soul; in the least rid him of his Scully anguish. Danica sacrificed half of her already small, child, serving to the floor gods. 

‘Maybe I should get a dog, might be a handy little thing to have with a granddaughter leaving food in her wake.’ Teena laughed, after Mulder offered to clean the mess on behalf of the child who couldn’t quite help herself. 

‘She’ll eat even less then, if she knows there is something on the floor to eat it for her.’ Mulder chuckled, thanking his mother for having wooden floors and not carpet. 

Bathed after dinner, and put into fresh pyjamas, Danica curled in a ball on the couch beside Mulder, happy watching the video Teena had provided. While their dinner was cooking she had popped over to the Jackobson’s old residence of Martha’s Vineyard that happened to have four grandchildren, the youngest not even Danica’s age. They had a great resource of children’s entertainment and happily leant Teena ‘Lady and the Tramp’. 

The girl was out for the count, half way through the movie. One of her arms had itself wound around Mulder’s, while the other clutched Schatz to her chest. He lifted her easily, up off the couch and carried the girl to the room his mother prepared. Danica didn’t flinch, she barely even whimpered against his shoulder as he moved her through the house and then finally laid her down.

Leaving her to sleep Mulder returned cautiously to the living room of his mother’s home. ‘I’m so glad you brought her, Fox, thank you.’ His mother hummed, looking up as he reentered the room. Mulder smiled, shrugging as he sat down. He wanted to admit that Danica had already filled a small part of the emptiness Samantha had left behind. He couldn’t admit that to his mother, not yet. 

‘I just - is her mother still in the picture?’ Teena asked, worry dripping into her words. ‘No one’s going to take her from you, are they?’ Mulder shook his head, reassuring his mother that his daughter was safe in his hands no one would remove her from his care - not without a fight. 

‘She’s mine, I’m not letting her go.’ He reiterated trying to convince his mother that Danica was safe so long as he was there. 

‘I would like to be there for her, as a grandmother should be.’ Mulder nodded, watching the sincerity cross his mother’s face. He couldn’t recall the last time he had seen that look, the longing in her eyes to do something right. ‘You can call me, if ever you need.’ He nodded again, slowly, somewhat scared as she leant forward and placed her hand atop his. This wasn’t the Teena he remembered from his teen years, she was a faint memory of a woman he had known when his sister was with them, so long dead that he was scared to recognise the support a mother was supposed to give. 

‘I think she’ll like having you around,’ He would like it too, no matter how strange it felt, something tightened in his chest at the possibility of having his mother back. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you to the four people (on ff.net) who managed to leave a review for the previous chapter. It's wonderful to hear your thoughts. I'm trying my little best to figure out what the hell I'm doing. 
> 
> Every review, comment, like, reblog, reply, favourite, follow, and kudos really helps.
> 
> Also, a shoutout to those over at insidethex.co.uk. They have saved me a lot of time in not needing to transcribe an episode myself. They’re the real MVPs here.

 

It was with hesitation that he let his heels clip across the tiled floor. Danica was left in the able hands of a nanny whose background had been checked more times than he had fingers. The girl was silent, watching him go from the door of a strange woman’s house - because his apartment was too small for the woman’s satisfaction. 

He understood her in that moment like he understood her in most; silently. She harboured fear on her shoulders while he charged at it, wishing he could cower like the little girl. Scully had called, and with duty he beckoned himself to her. It was urgent, important, as soon as possible. He felt the worry bubble in his gut, swallowing fear like an child a tablet. He wanted to spit it out, to turn around in the hallway and disappear, but it was not an option when Scully was concerned. 

He knew something was wrong the second she uttered the word _oncology._ Something drastically traumatic, that she urged him - whispered for his quick arrival. The word - _that_ word - rolled past him on the door as he approached the nurses station and asked for his partner. 

Mulder’s heart was pounding. He could feel it in his ears like a time bomb threatening to go off. She was in front of him before he could grasp his reality. Her back to him, dressed in a hospital gown she poured over a scan in her hand. 

She turned slowly, as though sensing his presence. Her lips twitched in a half lived smile. Coyly Mulder held up a small bouquet of flowers, ‘I uh, stole these from some guy with a broken leg down the hall. He uh, won’t be able to catch me.’ He went for a joke, the seriousness that choked the air was suffocating him. He couldn’t admit to her that he was scared about his being there, about her being there. He also couldn’t admit that he had spent far too long in the hospital gift shop trying to find the _right_ flowers. What conveyed, ‘you’re scaring the crap out of me?’ over ‘get better soon’ and ‘it’s a boy!’. There was nothing there for this situation, this unknown, this fear that something was horribly wrong with his partner. 

‘You okay, Scully?’ 

‘I guess that’s the question. Actually, I feel fine.’ She paused, waiting, watching the clock tick inside her head. He could tell she had something to say, of course she did - they were standing in the oncology ward of the Holy Cross Memorial Hospital. He tapped at the scan in her hand like an inquisitive handsy child, asking about it as he did so. ‘It’s what’s called nasopharengeal mass. It’s a small growth between the superior conchea and the sinoidal sinus.’ He stared at her for a second, scared by the doctor tone she had taken with him, horrified by her words. 

‘A growth?’ He asked, voice shaking. He wanted so much to take her by the hand and run out of that room, never go back and never face what she was telling him. 

‘A tumour,’ Scully corrected, nodding her head slightly. ‘You’re the only one I’ve called.’ She added as a side note, looking directly into his eyes. This was it, his stomach dropped, she already knew how bad this was. 

‘Is it operable?’ 

Scully’s face drew downwards. ‘No.’ 

‘But it’s treatable.’ He was so sure of himself, seeking the truth within his partner, the optimism. Nothing could beat Scully, nothing could or would take her down. She was the strongest woman he had ever met, he was the one who was supposed to disappear into the darkness, leaving her behind to protect her, not medicine. Medicine, science, hard pure fact was what she based her opinions through so heavily. They could not be the things that let her down, medicine providing fact that she might not make it through this.

‘The truth is that the type and placement of the tumour make it difficult, to the extreme.’ She let him down slowly, enunciating herself clearly. He was the patient she couldn’t be, the person she had to explain the illness too. She had consulted the head of oncology that morning, but it wasn’t the same. She needed to explain it herself; cool and calm, certain in finality. 

‘I refuse to believe that, I …’ She cut him off before he could say anymore. Scully was tempted to roll her eyes at his desperation. 

‘For all the times I have said that to you I am as certain of this as you have ever been. I have cancer. It is a mass on the wall between my sinus and cerebrum. If it pushes into my brain statistically there is about zero chance of survival.’ 

‘I don’t accept that. Th … there must be some people who have received treatment for this, we … can …’ Mulder was barely holding himself together, a rage was bubbling inside of him. This wasn’t fair. He wouldn’t have wished this on his worst enemy, but Scully, Scully didn’t deserve this at all. 

*

Betsy Higopian was an open ended question for Dana Scully. She had met the woman, spoken with her, knew that she and several others shared a story of the unknown that was slowly killing them. She had no doubt that her abduction and now sudden cancer were connected. She didn’t want to believe, but all signs pointed to reason. When the phone calls went unanswered and the messages not received Scully and Mulder travelled to Allentown, Pennsylvania in hope of catching the woman who was seemingly evading them.

With Danica in tow, Mulder’s trust in his new sitter not confident enough for interstate travel, they found Betsy Higopian’s hope empty. The realtor who conveniently was present at the time of their arrival had informed the agents and sleeping child that Betsy had not lived to beat her cancer.   
  
She was pointed in the direction of Penny Northern, another woman a part of the MUFON group who had met with Scully after her abduction. She took Danica with her, aware of the severity, but the shy child was clinging to her arm, unwilling to let go. She couldn’t break that connection, not when she too felt a desperate need to cling to something safe.

Danica walked easily beside her, stumbling over her feet occasionally as they wandered through the halls of the Allentown Bethlehem Medical Centre. Locating Penny’s room, Scully pushed the door open softly, allowing the little girl to step in ahead of her. 

Penny’s room was bare, white walls, white curtains all paired off with white sheets. A few feet from the door lay Penny Northern, the burgundy of her robe drawing Scully’s eye in the absolute blandness of the room. She looked like death, as the saying went, her face was drawn and pale. She was sleeping as Scully helped Danica into a chair by the wall. 

‘Dana,’ A tired voice called out, causing the woman in question to turn. Penny’s eyes were open, a small, tired small pressed across her cheeks. ‘Hello,’ She rasped, not commenting on Scully’s sudden misplacement. 

‘I’m … I’m,’ She blinked, shaking her head softly. ‘Sorry, did someone tell you I was coming?’ Scully let go of Danica as she moved towards Penny. 

‘No.’ 

‘Then how did you know it was me?’ Scully was cautious and compelled. 

‘I recognised you,’ Penny told her with a fond smile, her voice almost lilting with laughter. ‘I told you when we met last year, I held you and comforted you in the place, after the tests.’ She was patient with Scully, her voice soft as her eyes wandered towards the little girl sitting in the spare chair against the wall, teddy bear clutched to her chest fondly. Scully dropped her head, fascinated with her shoes suddenly as she tried to avoid the horror that was flickering in the corner of her memory.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive, but uh,’ She didn’t look at Penny ashamed that she didn’t know this woman nor remember her. She was someone who comforted her and cared for her in a great time of need, and all she had to say was, ‘I don’t share those memories’. Penny smiled, mumbling a soft reassurance that it was all okay. 

Scully pulled a chair away from the wall, and sat beside Penny’s bed. She flinched when Danica’s hand unexpectedly found her knee. Scully lifted the girl, under her arms, and helped her onto her lap. Danica sat, chest turned into Scully as she watched the unfamiliar woman in the hospital bed from the corner of her eye. Scully only hugged the girl, holding her tightly. ‘You have a beautiful little girl.’ Scully couldn’t find the heart to argue with the woman who had turned her attention to the dark haired child in her lap. ‘Her father must have been most distressed with your abduction.’ Scully nodded, there was no lie in Penny’s statement. 

She nodded slowly, hands picking at the girl’s jumper. ‘He was. But, I’m here now and that’s what matters.’ Scully smiled softly, her eyes dropped to her lap where Danica was playing with her fingers. She watched for a second, listening to Penny compliment her on a child that was not hers, and would never be. She squeezed Danica a second time, dropping a gentle kiss to the top of her small head. 

‘And now you’re sick,’ Penny spoke, breaking the silence that had transcended upon them. ‘Did you come here to ask about Dr. Scanlon?’ Scully shook her head. ‘He’s treating the cancer,’ Penny supplied, ‘He treated Betsy too. He thinks he might have isolated the cause, and if he’d caught it earlier he might have been able to do more for her, and for me.’ The universe was screaming at her through Penny Northern’s words. Her hands were restless under the little girl’s fingers as the mystery of her cancer chased itself around in her head. 

‘His name is Scanlon?’ Scully asked, some semblance of hope tickling the back of her neck. She could be the exception, the one with cancer in an early enough stage that could be cured. This could be her chance, the saving grace that would rid her of this incurable disease. Making up her mind, Scully stood, Danica on her hip, as she bid a quick goodbye and a promise of a return to Penny. Danica waved softly over Scully’s shoulder as they both disappeared out of the room and broke into the hallway. 

*

When Scully woke the next morning in a hospital bed she had checked herself into the evening before, Dr Scanlon was looking over her charts. Her eyes fluttered in the bright light for a second, her head turning to the left. Mulder was there, Danica in his lap, a book held in his hands as he whispered the story to her.

‘Dana?’ Dr. Scanlon was the first to notice that she was awake. Her name on his lips caused Mulder to look up, smiling softly in the direction of his partner. He put Danica on her feet, so he could gather their things and leave Scully and her doctor to talk. Hearing Scully respond to the doctor, Danica’s head turned up to the woman on the bed. Without nudging from either adult Danica clambered onto the hospital bed, and buried her head against Scully’s hip. 

‘She can stay,’ Scully smiled at Mulder, her fingers running through Danica’s hair, as he stepped forward to move the child. Scully liked the little girl, she was quiet and easily adaptable, although shy Danica had a confidence that took ahold of the girl when need be. Mulder nodded, easily allowing his partner her wishes as he leant in, his hand on Danica’s back, to kiss the girl on the forehead and Scully, gently, on the cheek. 

Once Mulder had left the room Dr. Scanlon turned to his patient, ‘Your MRI’s and your charts aren’t here yet but I have an idea of what to expect. You probably do too from your medical training.’ Scully gave a soft nod. 

‘I know that the chemotherapy is going to make me sick.’ Danica shifted against her side. 

‘And the radiation. They’re both part of a high dose approach to knock your system down so we can attempt the gene therapy on P53.’ He paused, took in a slow breath and offered a small smile to the little girl who was peeping at him from behind Scully’s hip. ‘You’re going to feel like dying.’ Scully swallowed visibly, squeezing the child beside her she hoped to gather Danica’s strength. Her heart skipped a beat and suddenly the door was opening. 

Margaret Scully stood in the open doorway, Mulder behind her. Scully didn’t flinch. She was quick to introduce her mother to her doctor, the man she hoped would could cure her. Dr. Scanlon made his excuses and left the room after _hellos_ were exchanged. Mulder called out for the girl, beckoning her from his place in the doorway as Maggie Scully slipped further into the room. 

Kissing the girl’s crown, Scully muttered, ’Be good, ‘Nica,’ Before she let the child go. Maggie watched the little girl climb off the bed and toddle towards Mulder reluctantly. ‘I, ah, I drove. I was going to take the shuttle but it’s only an hour more by car. Can you imagine?’ Her mother stuttered after Mulder closed the door behind him. Her hands twitched in front of her, clasped together and fidgeting. Scared energy was rushing off of her in waves. 

‘Mom, I know what you’re gonna say, but I don’t have any experience being sick. I promise you, I feel fine, I feel …’ She sighed, her words empty. She assured her mother that she was fine, that she was only in the hospital for treatment but it felt hollow. 

‘I don’t know why you didn’t tell me.’ Maggie’s voice snapped, forceful and angry. 

Growing up as a child, her siblings had always feared their father. Not Dana, she knew better than to think that dad was the final authority in the house. It was her mother Dana had always been fearful of. She may have been short and quiet and ultimately sweet, but she had to raise four children mostly alone and knew how to lay down the law because of it. ‘I don’t know why you didn’t tell me immediately!’ Maggie threw her coat onto the chair Mulder and Danica had occupied only minutes ago. 

She knew how pathetic her excuse was even before it came out of her mouth, ’I wanted to get all the answers first.’ Maggie only watched her child, asking softly if she had found the answers. ‘I have found some clarity, and maybe a way to fight back.’ Scully’s eyes flashed, that’s what she wanted, a way to fight back. Medicine could not let her down, she refused. 

‘I don’t want to be kept in the dark.’ Maggie’s voice was weak, ‘And I don’t want you to have Fox calling me to come out here. You call me yourself.’ Maggie sat on the edge of her daughter’s hospital bed. She took a deep breath, taking in her daughter’s face, before engulfing her in a protective hug. ‘You have always been the strong one, but you are my only daughter now.’ 

Scully’s heart jumped again, her stomach turning at the reminder of the hole Melissa’s death left in them, and the space she had to fill as last daughter left alive. ‘I know, Mom.’ Scully held back her tears as she hugged her mother tight. 

Pulling back slowly, Maggie asked, ‘Who is she, the little girl with Fox?’ 

Scully smiled, her eyes almost rolling at the sheer thought of now having to follow through with her partner’s mad plan. She wanted to protect Danica too, so she told the lie. ‘His daughter.’ A bemused smile tickled the corners of her mouth, splitting her cheeks slightly as her mother’s face contorted in shock.

‘I wasn’t aware …’ 

Scully chuckled, ‘Trust me,’ She cut her mother off, ‘I was as surprised as you are’.She paused, listening to her mother’s soft laugh. ‘Her name is Danica and she’s almost three. I was, uh, I was worried when he told me about her, but she brings out the honesty in Mulder. She’s very quiet, she’s seen far too many horrors for a little girl. She deserves the world.’ Scully hummed, eyes closing momentarily. 

‘You like her,’ Maggie smiled, watching as her daughter became animated in discussion about the young girl. 

Scully sighed, ‘I’ve tried to keep my distance, but, Mulder can’t do this on his own. He needs help, specifically mine - I don’t mind that much. Nica is addictive, and well behaved. She’s no hassle.’ 

‘She seems lovely.’ Scully nodded in agreement. ‘You’re smitten,’ Maggie observed, ‘But are you sure it’s a good idea - having this girl so close to you. Dana, you’re sick. Do you want to expose a young child to that suffering?’ She had already explained that her building love for Danica was unintentional. Though connection to Mulder she is exposed to the girl. There is no way to avoid her. Danica had enough loss, enough injury, she did not need to witness Scully’s battle with cancer. But, it was Mulder who brought her with him, who sat with the girl in Scully’s hospital room, who allowed the child to climb onto her bed and stay there. 

Although Scully understood what her mother was saying, she didn’t quite think she could push the little girl away so easily. Danica was almost a sense of normalcy in their lives, a small child who had to be fed and put to bed at the same time, who would eventually need to go to school. She needed a routine, in instilling that in Mulder, their lives were starting to find a succinct rhythm. Scully didn’t want to release the opportunity to watch that happen, especially if she didn’t have long left to witness it. 

*

He saved her in a sense, just like he had saved Danica. Uncovering the truth of a plot far bigger than the two of them, and exposing a deeper evil. Dr. Scanlon was not caught or punished for his crimes, but the bigger picture towards his use of the MUFON women and Scully was revealed to them before it became something uncovered too late. Penny Northern died believing Dr. Scanlon was dedicated to helping her, it had not been the case, but it was perhaps for the best letting her final hours be in contentment instead of anguish. 

Mulder choose to reserve some truths for a later date, deciding to not tell Scully about the ova of hers he found at the Lumbard Research Facility along side the clone Kurt Crawford’s. He didn’t know how to broach the subject with her, but it was not the time now. Scully had to come to terms with her cancer before he added infertility to a list of problems likely caused by Mulder and his quest. 

He drove her back to D.C. sombrely before the night was over. They collected Danica from the sitter in mutual agreement that neither adult quite wanted to be alone just yet. Mulder ordered Chinese as Scully sat, reading to Danica on her living room sofa, the both of them tucked under blankets. 

When the food arrived they ate humorously, Danica offered a small bowl of rice and lemon chicken ordered especially for her young tastes. She picked at the sticky food, causing the adults on either side of her to laugh.

‘She’s a good kid, Mulder,’ Scully offered quietly between mouthfuls of her own meal. Mulder raised a brow, ‘Mom tried to warn me away from her, which was fair - she deserves more.’ Scully stopped to wipe at a cluster of rice stuck to Danica’s cheek. ‘But, by now, you and I - we’re a package deal. I think she’s stuck with the both of us.’Mulder grinned, the smile spreading across his cheeks as he watched Scully fuss with the little girl and her dinner. 

‘We need you, Scully. I didn’t want to admit it, but, I really need your help.’ She nodded slowly, already accepting her place by his side at work, and now with Danica. She returned a napkin to the girl’s cheek, rubbing softly at a sticky spot with a crinkle in her forehead. 

‘I’m here, for as long as I can be. I _will_ fight this, Mulder. For me, for her, for our work — for the Truth.’


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was writing the original, someone asked for more Trent. I ended up adding him later but when I sat down to rework the piece, I thought immediately of adding him while he was a young boy.

Burning Snowflakes 

… Part 8 …

 

Trent was an outgoing young boy, whose accomplishments in sport outnumbered his age. He was a team player and very good at communicating. Scully was due to see her godson the same weekend Mulder asked - _begged_ \- for her to watch Danica. 

‘Does she talk?’ The boy asked as he eyed the little girl standing next to his godmother. 

Dana shook her head, ’Not much, but you can talk to her. She’ll understand you.’ She smiled comfortingly at her godson, before wrapping him in a tight hug and letting him tug a bag full of LEGOs into her home. Trent always came preprepared with his own toys. Danica watched, still stationed beside Scully’s leg as the young boy got himself comfortable on the living room floor. 

‘Danica,’ Trent called out to her softly, beckoning her forward with his hand. ‘It’s all right. Come over here.’ Danica swayed, watching, assessing. She crept forward after a minute, once Scully pushed her lightly between the shoulders. Danica swept Schatz off the couch and into her arms, her eyes never leaving Trent. She watched him, fearful, cautious while he stayed completely still, arm outstretched.

Trent took his attention away from her, instead focusing on modifying a car out of LEGO while the girl watched from behind her bear. She stepped forward after a minute, her feet sliding across the floor before she finally plopped herself down across from Trent, eyes glued to the figure he was making. 

‘Danes, I still don’t quite understand. Who is this girl?’ Ellen spoke up, after Scully had turned and moved for the kitchen deeming Danica safe and occupied with Trent. 

Pulling mugs from the cupboard, Scully smiled at her old friend. ‘She’s Mulder’s daughter.’ 

‘Cute jerk!?’ Ellen almost screamed, catching herself, she lowered her voice, ’Cute jerk has a daughter?!’ Scully nodded. ‘And she’s here with you? She’s not with her dad because …?’ Mulder was out, chasing a lead on a Saturday. Scully chose not to get involved, but in doing that Danica had been handed over her threshold, still half asleep. ‘And her mother?’

‘Dead.’ Scully offered simply, pouring coffee for the both of them. 

Ellen frowned, humming softly. ’You’ve never told me he had a daughter.’ 

Scully shrugged, sipping her coffee. ‘It’s relatively new. He brought her home a couple of weeks ago.’ Ellen let out a low whistle. 

‘I don’t think I could imagine not knowing I had a kid out there in the world, already living.’ She hummed, ‘And he stepped right up to the plate? Brought this little girl into his home, ready to treat her like his kid, even though she doesn’t know him.’ Scully nodded again, half smiling at Ellen’s wonder. ‘He’s still single right?’ Scully almost spat her drink across the room her laughter was so sudden. Ellen was ruthless, despite having a nine-year-old son, she took every moment she could to appreciate the other dads at parties and events. Trent’s dad hadn’t been in the picture for a long time, and Ellen mostly wasn’t interested, which didn’t mean she couldn’t look. 

They fell into easy discussion after that, marvelling at the quiet coming from the living room, Trent’s voice reaching out to them every so often. He was talking to Danica, nonsense things, school, sport, his friends, his dog Peeta. There was no response from Danica but the occasional verbal squeak she made. 

The children played uninterrupted until Trent let out a disgruntled groan. 

Ellen was up in a second, Scully on her heels, both curious as to the boy’s sudden frustration. ’T’ent!’ Danica’s little voice shrieked as she bopped where she was sitting. By the time Ellen and Scully managed to peer over the couch, Trent had his head in his hands. Danica’s face was alight with amusement. ’T’ent!’ She shrieked a second time, her face turning to Scully, her hand pointing at the boy, ’T’ent!’ 

‘That’s right, baby girl,’ Scully applauded, joining the kids on the carpet. ‘It’s Trent,’ She pulled Danica into a tight hug, as she pressed a kiss to the girl’s soft hair.

‘No,’ Trent groaned, the balls of his palm rubbing at his eyes. ‘My name is Trent. T-r-e-n-t.’

Ellen chuckled, ‘She’ll get there, bud.’ She ruffled her son’s hair fondly.

’T’ent!’ Danica shrieked again, giggling this time at the frustration of the boy opposite her. 

Trent groaned, rocking back on his feet, ‘She’s trying to destroy me!’ He moaned dramatically, hands palming his face. ‘Girls are so annoying.’ Trent rolled his eyes at his mother’s laughter. His Aunt Dana was chucking at Danica’s gentle giggles, the girl clapping her hands at her achievement in the boy’s name. She repeated it again, once, twice a third time before Trent himself laughed at her eager amusement. 

‘She’s not bothering you, is she?’ Scully asked, concern pulling at the corners of her mouth as he blue eyes watched over the boy’s face. 

Trent shook his head, ‘She’s all right, Aunt Dana’. Scully relaxed, relived. She had offered to take Danica for the day, when Mulder had announced his weekend plans. 

Something had hatched under her ribcage, a fondness for the little girl with her warm hugs and fiery hair. Trent had called that Friday night, requesting, in his best manners, to visit his godmother that weekend. Introducing Danica and Trent was not a plan, but quickly became one. The boy, hopefully, although a bit older than the girl, would entertain her for a small portion of the day. There was no telling when Mulder would return to her apartment ready to collect the child he was calling his.

‘Can we go to the park?’ Trent asked, head lifting from his LEGOs. Mentally checking she had shoes and semi warm clothes for Danica, Scully nodded. 

They walked to the park, Trent running ahead already sure of his way. Danica, on Scully’s hip, wiggled to follow the boy who after every few steps turned to call back at them. Scully held tight to the toddler, knowing full well the little girl would fall head first into the concrete before they even reached the playground. 

‘You know, you once told me you wouldn’t be good at this - I’m starting to doubt that.’ 

‘I thought you always doubted it.’ Scully laughed, avoiding what her friend was saying. 

Ellen shrugged her shoulders, ‘Well, yeah, I trusted your judgement in yourself. But, Danes, I just watched you pack fruit snacks and water, as well as a first aid kit - yes, I saw that.’ Ellen raised an eyebrow at her friend’s sheepish look. ‘We’re going to the park, it’s not even a ten minute walk from your apartment. You don’t need these things. Sure, they’re great to bring, but people who are not good with children - or good with caring for them - are prepared like that.’ Scully didn’t respond. ‘It’s not a bad thing, Dana. It suits you.’ 

‘I’m just watching her for the day,’ She was almost defensive, as she tried, with one hand to untangle Danica’s fingers from her hair. 

‘I’m not saying - I’m just saying - you _will_ make a good mom one day, Dana. If you so choose to pursue that part of your life.’

‘Yes!’ Trent called, a few feet ahead, ‘The swings are free!’ He called out to Scully, begging for her to hurry up. Danica would love the swings, Trent was sure of it, he just wanted to get to them before the other kids did. ‘I love this park, Aunt Dana,’ he told her when Scully finally caught up. 

Crouched at the swings, buckling Danica securely into the toddler swing, Scully asked her godson why exactly he loved the park. ‘There’s hardly no kids here, every time. It’s like a kidless park, all for me and Danica.’ He shrieked some comment about wanting to own the park, to claim it as his own and if she could please ask at the FBI for him.

‘She doesn’t work for the Parks Department, bud.’ Ellen laughed, responding before Scully had to explain her job to the boy for the tenth time in his life. Ellen was pushing Trent’s swing, the boy already building momentum, while Scully still stood, crouched, at the toddler swing, Danica grasping onto her wrists tightly. She saw the fear in the toddler’s eyes, the way her little face fell and her eyes fill with tears. 

‘C’mon, Nika!’ Trent called, soaring well above Scully’s head. ‘It’s fun!’ He giggled, kicking is legs in and out with the motion. 

Danica’s blue eyes turned grey as she watched Trent to her right, her fingers tangled in Scully’s sweater sleeve. Trent’s swing slowed beside them, not stopping completely before the boy threw himself off and landed in the bark. He stood beside Scully, peering at Danica with a sorrowful expression. 

‘It’s not scary, I promise.’ He told the little girl, as though she understood him completely. Scully was still uncertain how much the girl grasped, but knew to talk to her like normal. ‘Aunt Dana, why don’t you swing with her?’ He suggested, ‘That one’s free,’ Scully looked from the boy to the girl, and then up at Ellen who was agreeing with a nod. ‘She won’t be scared once she knows it’s fun!’ 

Danica’s little body relaxed the second Scully unclipped her from the swing and lifted her onto her hip. The relief almost sighed out of the girl who dropped her head to Scully’s shoulder. ‘Trent, I don’t think she wants to swing.’ 

‘Aunt Dana,’ The boy was stern, his mother’s reprimanding voice, ‘It’s fun’.

Danica was far more approachable to the idea of the swing once in Scully’s lap. She giggled softly as Scully pushed at the ground, slowing making their swing glide. As her comfort increased her laughter grew louder, and soon Trent was swinging alongside them, soaring far higher than Scully dared to go. 

Danica swung happily on Scully’s lap, giggling as Trent soared past them, back and forth, over and over. She struggled with urgency to clammer off Scully’s lap when Trent jumped from his swing and ran towards the jungle gym. Danica was eager to join the boy, to run and play by his side. Trent wasn’t used to the large age gap, he played at school with kids his age, not two-year-old toddlers who struggled to keep up. Once he noticed Danica was following him, the boy slowed, waited for her to catch up, before taking her hand and making sure she climbed the play equipment carefully. Scully watched on, biting the inside of her lip in fear of an accident. 

‘How are things with you Dana, really?’ Ellen moved them both towards a park bench stationed across from the playground the children were climbing all over. Scully muttered her generic _fine_. ‘I’m not accepting that as an answer. You’ve been hard to reach lately, Danes. I’m worried that you’re projecting contentment in an attempt to pass off further inspection.’ Ellen pried, her eyes moving from the children to stare down her friend. 

If anyone knew how to get an honest response out of Scully it was Ellen, her mother too, but Ellen always pried open the doors and forced the honesty for her friend’s greater good. ‘I was diagnosed with cancer two weeks ago - a nasopharengeal mass.’ 

‘Dana,’ Ellen half gasped before she sighed heavily. ‘Oh Dana, I’m so sorry.’ 

‘Please,’ Scully sighed, ‘Please don’t be sorry. It’s fine, honestly.’ She didn’t fail to miss the look on her friend’s face, Ellen was there, at med school along side Scully until she got pregnant with Trent and found other means for income. She knew what Scully’s tumour meant, where it was, her chances of survival. 

‘If you need anything, Danes, _anything_ at all, I want you to call me.’ Scully nodded, not before turning her head to the playground, her ears already attuned to Danica’s voice. The girl was shouting from the top of the playground, German words, foreign to everyone else’s ears. 

Remembering that her friend took a stint in several college German classes, Ellen turned back to Scully. ‘Do you catch what she’s saying?’ Ellen asked on a laugh. 

Sully chuckled, ‘Yeah, parts of it. I’m still a little rusty. She said something about ‘fun’. This is the most I’ve heard her talk since I met her.’ Scully smiled, proud of the comfort Danica managed to achieve within the acquaintance of Trent and the open and fairly empty, park. 

[…]

They walked casually back to Scully’s apartment, with no injury, an hour and a half later. The kids had worn themselves out enough that they were dragging their feet across the pavement. Trent kept up in step beside his mother, lacking the energy to race ahead. Danica, although accustom to being carried, insisted on walking alongside her new friend. 

There was a figure sitting on the stoop of Scully’s apartment building, it rose as they got closer, waving them down. Danica seemed to have better eye sight than the adults, using the last of her energy, she muttered a ‘papa’ and raced forward. 

‘Mulder,’ her voice lilted with a mixture of relief that Danica had ran towards the right arms, and shock at seeing him so early. ‘I thought you were working a case.’ 

Mulder smiled, ‘I was and then, ah, I wasn’t.’ 

‘They dropped you?’

‘No, ah, I realised it was such a beautiful day and I was wasting the weekend I had with my daughter.’ The look on his face was honest, no guilt that he was lying to her. ‘Fox Mulder,’ He turned his attention in a split second to Ellen and Trent standing beside Scully, his hand outstretched to shake Ellen’s. 

Ellen took his hand easily, tossing a mischievous grin towards her friend as she did so. ’I’ve heard a lot about you, Mulder. Ellen Monroe and this is Trent.’ She gestured towards her son. 

‘Nice to meet you both.’ 

‘Why don’t we all go inside.’ Scully offered, her attention wavering for a second as she brushed dirt off Danica’s knee. Ellen elbowed Scully as she walked past rather obviously before entering her friend’s building behind her. 

‘I didn’t mean to intervene on your day,’ Scully brushed him off, rolling her eyes, as she pushed open the door to her apartment. He’d already intervened in dumping her with Danica, not that she minded. Collecting the girl was no inconvenience. 

Seeing Trent push through the apartment and go back to his toys, Danica became dire to join him. She wiggled on Mulder’s hip, her little hands pushing at his shoulders. He was confused at her want to be away from him, but he placed her on her feet regardless; watching in amazement as she joined Trent easily. 

Scully grinned, catching Mulder’s confused expression. ‘Today has been a lesson in courage,’ She told him with a proud tilt. ‘You should have seen her at the park, Mulder, she had no worries.’ 

‘Dana here, on the other hand, was wound tighter than a coil waiting for that girl to hurt herself.’ Ellen teased, knowing full well how much her friend would hate the jibe. Mulder only smiled, he knew the behaviour was uncharacteristic in his partner. He was, however, none too surprised at her protective instinct. 

Mulder had learnt to not react to the surprisingly dormant instincts. He knew they existed, wanted to believe they lived in everyone. In rescuing Danica he was only promised accuracy in that assumption, not only for himself but Scully too. 

‘Have you got things planned for your afternoon?’ Scully asked him, curious now as to his departure from work plans. Mulder didn’t abandon a hunt lightly. 

He shrugged, watching the shy girl interact with Trent on his partner’s living room floor. ‘I, ah, was going to take her to the park.’ Scully apologised quietly, ‘No, it’s all right. I might take her home, let her nap.’ He watched the slouched posture, and bent shoulders of the small child, knowing full well that she would close her eyes minutes from this moment and only wake for a nightmare. ‘I’m sure you’re looking forward to having the rest of your day back.’ Mulder offered sheepishly. 

Scully shook her head, she had no plans other than housekeeping which she could just as easily have done with the quiet girl in tow. She didn’t know how to tell him that she didn’t mind having Danica around. He already knew, there was no denying an admiration for the small child. 

Ellen engaged Mulder in mindless chit chat hinting, much to Scully’s distaste, at her friend’s college years to the man who was eager to hear the stories. He stayed until Danica started forcing her hair out of her face angrily with both hands, grumbling at nothing. It was one of the child’s many tells towards her desperate need for a nap. 

He thanked Scully graciously before encouraging Danica to say goodbye to Trent before he scooped her up, along with Schatz and her backpack and took her home. Mulder wasn’t out the door for more than two seconds before Ellen turned to her best friend, shit eating grin in place. 

‘Okay, you told me he was cute. You _did not_ tell me he was hot!’ Regrettably, Scully blushed, pushing at Ellen’s shoulder in an attempt to scold her behaviour. ‘Seriously, Danes.’ Ellen was chuckling, her all knowing grin bright and wide.

Scully half turned away, ‘I told you - he’s married to his work.’ 

‘Looked to me right then that he dropped work to be with his daughter. Seems like a changed man to me.’ 

‘He has a long way to go. He did leave her here this morning, don’t forget.’ Scully added, thankful to prove her friend wrong in order to save her pride. ‘Besides, the FBI has a strict policy against inter-office relationships. Especially for partners.’ 

‘And yet, you’re still not denying it.’ 

‘Ellen, nothing is happening between Mulder and I, nothing is going to happen.’ Scully’s cheeks were pink, both with the effort to fight her friend off and the implication that she and Mulder were remotely interested, let alone suited for one another. 

Ellen hummed as she chased a crumb around the table top with her finger. ‘Yeah, sure, you two aren’t doing a weird distorted version of playing house, at all.’ Scully sighed, ‘I’m not judging you either, by the way, it’s odd, but - Danes you’re happy. Lately it’s taken a lot to get you to that place.’ Scully opened her mouth to protest, more than happy to dispute her friend on Ellen’s acute observations. ‘I’m just saying; don’t shut them out. Sure, you can’t pursue anything, that would be against FBI regulation. But, relax. Don’t push them away. Kids can be magic if you let them in long enough.’

‘I don’t have time, Ellen. I can’t do that to her.’ 

‘She’s here, she trusts you, Mulder trusts you. You’ve already exposed her to your life. Just, ease into it, Danes. You’ll probably surprise yourself.’ 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last time this document was edited was three weeks to a year ago. So, sorry about that guys. I had my reservations about posting purely because it's the last written chapter I had. I've had a few reviews (over on FF.net) that reminded me of this whole thing. 
> 
> I promise to try to get back into the swing of it.

Burning Snowflakes  
… Part 9 …

She wondered when the response had started, reaching for the phone the second it rang, before she herself had woken completely. There was no thought to it anymore, only action to the sound. A conditioned response. Her thumb pressed accept before her wrist dropped the receiver to her ear. 

Mulder’s voice echoed her name, slightly off, down the line. Worried tickled at the back of her head as her groggy mind tried to place the time. He didn’t know the answer to her mumbled question. Shifting Scully sought out the time, blaring at her in bright red numbers. ‘It’s almost 5:00am.’ Mulder’s breath stuttered down the line. ‘Is something wrong?’ his behaviour was uncharacteristic, docile enough to finally ignite worry in the forefront of her mind. ‘Where are you?’ her voice shot out, her hand pushing the heavy duvet off her body after he whimpered a pathetic; ‘I think so.’ 

‘I think I’m in a … a motel room in Providence, but …’ 

‘Where?’ She snapped, one hand holding the phone to her ear in a white knuckle grip while the other yanked a pair of jeans up her legs. 

‘Rhode Island.’ 

She was prepared to leave before her mind had already caught up. Jeans on, shirt buttoned, keys in hand. Scully wasn’t sure what he had done, or was doing, but she knew she had to get there. ’What are you doing there?’

The confusion was evident, a little fear biting the tips of his words. ‘I don’t know. There’s … t - there’s blood all over me.’ Her heart skipped ahead, holding itself momentarily. 

‘Are you hurt, Mulder?’ Scully asked on bated breath. 

He didn’t respond, his breath heavy on the other end of the line. ‘… I don’t think it’s my blood.’ He whispered, partially winded. Scully exhaled heavily, her heart still pounding in her chest.

‘Mulder,’ she breathed, ‘Mulder, I need you to focus for a second.’ He hummed, practically lucid. ‘Mulder, where’s Danica?’ He hummed a question in the noise. ‘Is she there?’ Scully couldn’t help the panic that rose in her voice. 

‘I - I don’t think so.’ She slammed her hand against the kitchen counter, not quite ready to hang up on him until she knew both he and the girl were safe. 

‘Where is she?’ he mumbled something, half groan. ‘Mulder, where the hell is Danica? She’s two-years-old, where is she?’ 

‘I don’t - I don’t know, Scully. I’m alone.’ Her response was rushed, a forced reassurance that she would be there as fast as she could. Scully ended the call, dropped the phone to the counter and cursed long and hard. Mulder getting into trouble was not unusual, however, his dragging Danica into it was not only unacceptable but unforgivable if the girl was harmed. 

Scully was half delirious as she drove in a panic across the coast. The signs for Greenwich, Connecticut reached out to her as she careened down the highway, her heart still pounding as adrenaline rushed through her veins. The detour was slight, leading her to a house that was only familiar in words and not sight. She knocked on the door, hands clenched together in fear that the woman was not here, not at this home. Footsteps echoed from inside, helping Scully to relax just slightly. 

‘Miss Scully,’ Teena Mulder breathed, partially confused at the sight of her son's partner on the doorstep. 

Teena’s mouth frowned at the sight of the young woman, eyes wide with controlled panic. ’Is she here? Is Danica here?’ Scully shook her tone pleading with the woman, pleading with Mulder that he had left Danica somewhere safe before doing something reckless. 

Teena continued to frown, confused. ‘She’s here,’ Teena nodded slowly. Scully’s body sagged, one weight slipping off her shoulders as she sighed heavily. 

‘Can I, can I come in and see her?’ 

‘What do you want with my granddaughter?’ Teena was cautious, accusatory as she stared down her son's partner. She had her suspicions when she first met Danica, Fox not telling her much of where the child came from. Teena was promised that Danica would be safe, never taken from them. And yet, there stood Dana Scully half stunned with panic on her doorstep, begging to see the little girl. 

‘I just, I need to see her. Please, I’ll be quiet. I just need to know what she’s okay.’ 

‘Of course, she’s okay! Where’s Fox?’ It was Teena’s turn to switch on the worry, although a little less than Scully’s.

‘He’s in Rhode Island.’ She didn’t feed his mother any more information than strictly necessary. ‘I’ll be quick. I just need to see her.’ Teena sighed, still sizing the woman in front of her up. Teena Mulder had not had the distinct privilege to interact with Dana Scully on more than three occasions. Although she recognised care for her son, and certainly care for her newly found granddaughter, she was suspicious, completely, on the beautiful young woman’s motive. 

‘She’s sleeping upstairs,’ she waved her in, pointing towards the stairs and signalling to the left. She followed the small woman, cautiously, watching as she climbed the stairs and pushed Danica’s bedroom door open gently. The hinges didn’t squeak, nor the door creak as Dana Scully tiptoed into the sleeping child’s bedroom, her partner’s mother watching her carefully. 

Scully stopped breathing once she reached Danica’s bedside, finding the girl, as her grandmother had said. Carefully, Scully extended her hand, gently gracing her fingertips over Danica’s soft cheek. The girl’s chest hitched on a sigh before she tucked Schatz tighter under her arm and pressed further into her pillow. ‘Sleep tight, Liebling’ She whispered, her lips grazing the girl’s tiny knuckles before Scully stood to step out of the room. 

‘What is your relationship with my granddaughter?’ Teena Mulder asked, following Scully down the stairs and to the door. Scully tried to fight off the soft pink flush she felt flare against her cheeks. The bond was inexplicable.

Reaching for the door, Scully turned to Teena with a soft smile. ‘I watch her for Mulder on occasion. Thank you for letting me see her.’ Her voice was friendly, cool, calm, pleased while anger bubbled in her chest, fury and rage directed solely at this woman’s son. It was only just reaching her now, adrenaline slowed, panic subsided. Mulder has potentially gotten himself into a bad situation and in the process not remembered where he had left the girl. Scully was only happy that he had the clear thought to take Danica to his mother. But forgetting that she was there, risking her life on whatever intrepid shenanigan had found him this week; her control was faltering. 

‘Is everything all right, Dana?’ Scully half imagined she was as stunned with Teena’s concern as much as Mulder had been. So much in one morning, clearly the woman was on a path of change reverting to the days in which she loved and cared for her children. 

Scully gave a short, curt nod. ‘I just didn’t know where she was, is all.’ Teena nodded accepting the excuse without completely believing it. 

She was at odds and ends with Fox, not quite knowing where walls began and his real self-ended. Her steps were cautious, calculated, almost unforgiving as she feared stepping into the quicksand she created. Her own son would swallow her whole in a world full of regrets and wrong choices. She had always made the wrong choices. Married the right man with the wrong connections, conceived, twice to the wrong man with the worse ideas. She paid once for her daughter, grief took her son. The inability to reach out to him, to forgive herself first, to not see his sister’s tiny face, or the guilt in his eyes. She had lost the ability to question his motives, to judge his actions. Instead, she left him be, breathing and growing like mould on the ceiling. She set him free the day he went to England, closed off the wall between them and said their goodbyes. The boat at the harbour had not been completely freed, rope still anchored him to the docks, long enough that he did not notice, not as long as forever. 

His work on The X-Files drew him back to her on occasion, like the earth orbiting the sun, a buoy dancing in the ocean. He drew near to her, demanding with clenched fists the answers to questions she had long forgotten could be asked. So deep her grief she had become comatose, ignorant to it all, almost forgetful of her pain. It took Dana Scully a couple of years to find him, centre him, remove his gravitation, reset his pull. Samantha always rearranged that, dragging the raging man back to his mother’s home, her doorstep, never quite making it in. Sometimes she wasn’t there, sometimes she was. He would sit on the stoop and blame himself or rehearse the questions he wanted to ask. They never left his lips. He would go home, return to his apartment, the gravitational pull of Dana Scully would have him calling her in the brand new hours of a still rising morning, she would listen to the nonsense he rambled, importance hidden behind the supernatural. She questioned his sanity but never his integrity. 

Teena worried that just like her guilt had drowned her, his unnerving search for the Truth of his sister’s disappearance would destroy him. Scully hadn’t changed that, he would still go down guns blazing, even if the petite woman had asked him not too. People, even FBI agents, we subject to change in circumstance. Danica had become their circumstance, slowly implementing change in their lives, actions and choices. Teena new neither adult enough to trust the theory but had seen enough in both Mulder and Scully’s eyes to understand change was well due. 

*

She had seen Mulder in various variations of ups and downs, low points and high. The limbering stock of a man, cowering in a steaming shower as he shivered, teeth rattling, was not one she was looking to add to the list. He couldn’t get warm. Immediate diagnosis was shock. 

‘Do you know what day it is?’ She asked, Mulder sitting on the hotel room bed wrapped in a blanket and a towel. He shook his head slowly, tilting it, confused. She watched him almost go cross-eyed trying to figure out the answer to her simple question. ‘It’s Sunday,’ She told him once he gave in. ‘What’s the las thing that you remember?’ She bit down on her tongue, watching his hazel eyes as she refrained from prompting him. 

‘I was in my apartment. I talked to you on the phone.’ 

Scully sighed, ‘That was Friday.’ Panic flared in his eyes as he scanned the room for some kind of answer, half groggy. Had he been there since Friday? ‘I could guess as much, Mulder. You packed a bag. There’s a change of clothes in there. You dropped Danica off at your mother's. Do you feel any pain? Did you receive a blow to the head?’ He didn’t notice the silver trails of tears on her cheeks, because yes, she had cried after leaving Connecticut and felt the fresh sting again. She wasn’t a crier, she did not break down in front of her partner. She, however, was scared for the life of a little girl whom had already been saved from demons. He was jeopardising her life, her safety, her security.

Mulder obediently shook his head at her questions. He didn’t feel any pain, he didn’t his head. He had not taken any medication medicinal or otherwise, the blood was certainly not his. ‘Where’s your weapon?’ she asked, headache forming behind her eyes. 

He looked like a scared child when she asked that question, responding meekly with an; ’I don’t know’. She inspected his gun, finding it laying on top of his travel bag. Two rounds had been fired. ‘I don’t remember that,’ He said as though the conviction in his voice could prove it didn’t happen. 

Scully sighed heavily, giving into the headache as it inched across her skull, burying itself in her temples. ‘I thought you were seeing the light, Mulder. No more wasted weekends.’ Scully dropped to the chair opposite the foot of the bed, her head in her hands, fingers wound through her hair. ‘You’re supposed to be spending time with your _daughter.’_ She hissed the word, lifting her eyes to meet his. Mulder chose that option, wanted to play father, not run off into the night chasing whatever monster called his name.

She understood that his sister haunted him, the mysteries behind her disappearance so bizarre he had no other logical reasoning. She understood his desire to find her. To stop at nothing in order to do so. But there was a line. Drilling holes in his head, by a doctor who shouldn’t even be a doctor was not the answer to Samantha Mulder’s disappearance. It only opened the doors of heartache on longing, the steel closed for so long he crashed and burned each time they were shimmied open.

Mulder never quite bounced back the same after each ordeal, each inch closer to his sister’s truth. Scully forced and extra night under the hospital’s watchful eye, as she took the day from work and collected Danica from Connecticut. Teena was less than pleased at the sight of Scully’s return after Fox had stormed into her home, demanding the truth on the legitimacy of his person. Child born within a marriage. Not to the married man. She relinquished Danica at Scully’s request, the little girl already wrapped around her torso, Schatz pressed against her chest. 

*

She was asleep by the time they reached D.C., Georgetown quiet with the lull between the end of the work day and the beginning of the nightlife. Scully nestled Danica onto the couch gently. The girl woke seconds after her carer stepped back, kiss on her cheek still floating between them, ‘Papa?’ she enquired to the silent room, eyes scanning through the soft lamplight. 

‘Not tonight,’ Scully soothed, pushing damp hair away from the girl’s sweaty forehead. ‘Just me and you,’ She tapped the girl on the cheek softly before moving to stand. ‘Stay here, I’ll go get your milk.’ Danica’s eyes fluttered closed as Scully stepped away, leaving her to rummage through Danica’s bag for her favoured drink cup. 

Scully hummed to herself in the kitchen quietly, thinking only of the tired little girl in her living room. The rest of her worries slipped away as she deliberated the ins and outs of preparing the girl’s pre-bed bottle. She was possibly too big for the comfort, but in establishing a routine with Danica, Mulder made sure she had warm milk every night. She had intended to call her brother, Charles, in order for inquiry to his own two-year-old’s antics; the comforts Leo sought and the acceptable measures for the age group. The time difference between D.C. and Australia had kept her from doing so.

‘Mama,’ A tiny voice called out as she daydreamed about the good fortune of having enough in the carton for Danica’s milk, and hopefully something wholesome for breakfast. The voice made her jump, the little girl it came from stood in the doorway, Schatz dangling from one hand as she rubbed at her face with the other. Scully’s heart hammered in her chest, shock and fear making it pound faster than the thudding hooves of a winning race horse. 

Scully ignored the word, swallowing down the feeling of burning hope and ice-cold dread. It settled uneasily in her stomach as she picked the girl up and hoisted her onto her hip. ‘I thought I told you to stay put, Liebling.’ She poked Danica’s belly teasingly, the racing horse inside her chest, slowing to a smooth canter. 

Danica dropped her head to Scully’s shoulder, her cheek flush against her neck. ‘Time for bed?’ She asked, handing Danica her bottle, as the girl shook her head sharply. Scully chuckled at the girl’s drooping eyes, knowing defeat was only steps away. She collected Danica’s bag from the living room, before carrying the girl to her bedroom and setting her on the bed. ‘These are new,’ Scully commented, pulling a pair of pyjamas out of Danica’s bag. She hadn’t seen them before, moss green with white polka-dots and a pink trim. She didn’t know every item in Danica’s small wardrobe but, Scully was confident to know what Mulder had or had not purchased in the short weeks that had quickly turned into a little over a month. 

Danica wiggled as Scully changed her clothes, playing with the buttons on her shirt with tiny little fingers. ‘Oma,’ She told the woman, watching the top of Scully’s head as she did up the buttons for her. 

‘Oma,’ Scully beamed, ‘That’s right, Liebling. Teena’s your Oma.’ She kissed Danica’s cheeks, wrapping the girl in a fierce hug as she covered her face in gentle kisses. Her chest tightened with pride at Danica’s clear observation with the world, no matter the language barrier. 

‘Papa?’ She asked again, this time with a soft curiosity, head tilted a little to the left. Scully’s smile faltered, only a little, enough to notice but barely enough to comment. She was withholding Danica. Without right, although Mulder didn’t fight her when she suggested it. In fact, he insisted. Scully had wanted to punish him for his recklessness that weekend, for the costly behaviour that would have lost him, Danica, if it went any further. Mulder only saw it as just, insisting Scully be the one to take Nika home, to tuck her into the guest bedroom in her apartment and kiss her goodnight. He didn’t deserve that simple luxury after he chased another wild lead on his endeavour to uncover the truth of Samantha. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! All support is appreciated ... it helps me write! :)


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